


We Stand Together

by CaptainTarthister



Series: The Affair [9]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Baby Shower, Divorce, Explicit Sexual Content, Extramarital Affairs, F/M, Infidelity, Past Rape/Non-con, Pregnancy, Tywin smells a pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-26
Updated: 2016-09-09
Packaged: 2018-08-11 03:42:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 10
Words: 33,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7874848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainTarthister/pseuds/CaptainTarthister
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jaime and Brienne solidify their commitment with a proposal but people continue to try breaking them apart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. We Can Be Happy

Late as it was when she crawled to bed and drained to the dregs from yesterday’s events, Brienne was roused early by an eager, warm tugging on her nipple, and a tickling abrasion on her chest. She shivered from the hungry, wet sounds and the bristly sensation. Eyes closed, her hands moved unseen toward Jaime’s head, fingers caressing his thick hair before giving him a gentle push to kiss her harder. He obliged with a happy-sounding grunt. As her breath hitched, he sucked harder, even sneaking gentle grazes of his teeth on the very soft skin.

When she opened her eyes, he was watching her as his lips moved to the freckled path between her small breasts. His eyes were still heavy-lidded with sleep but she knew well enough that when he wanted something, he didn’t wait to get it. Right now it was her other breast, the nipple peaking eagerly towards him for the hot, wet clutch of his mouth. A longing sigh drifted from her as he rubbed his stubbled jaw and cheeks against the swelling tissue before wrapping his mouth around it. His other hand pulled and plucked the nipple he had just left. She breathed shakily at the fire his kisses and touches were kindling. Moaning, she held his.hand to her breast.

He was heavy on her chest, hard and pulsing between her legs. Her t-shirt was rucked to her neck exposing her breasts but her pajamas, she discovered as her lust-clouded eyes wandered briefly, had been tossed to the foot of the bed as she slept. That was fucking impressive, truly, for Jaime to do that without waking her. She let out a laugh and he drew his head up, looking at her curiously.

“What?”

She shook her head, unable to stop the smile pulling at her lips. She could have this joy—they could be this happy and more, despite all that had happened. Their heads had broken through the surface after so long, they were alive and still breathing. Adrift they were, but no longer as lost nor hopeless. 

She was marrying Jaime.

He was still looking at her expectantly because she was smiling like the idiot she was. Truly, happiness like this was new. She pulled him down and gave him her lips.  
He devoured her, taking her mouth with the hunger of a man long denied. They may have delayed the inevitable for two years but once it started, they went from zero to a hundred miles an hour with breath-taking, dizzying ease. To make up for lost time. Because they couldn’t wait to have each other. They were overflowing with passion. One or two of those. All of the above. Probably more that they couldn’t name. All of them led to this moment, the sum of what she hoped was their first foray to joy.

Once again, Jaime’s kisses unwove a spell only she would respond to. Her arms held him by the shoulders, lowered to his waist, slipping under his t-shirt to touch warm skin and muscles. His hips lowered to hers, letting her know just how hard he was even through the threadbare fabric of his pants. She opened her legs, the heel of her right foot pressing on the high, firm shape of his buttocks to push him closer t before rubbing against him and pulling a throaty, pleased groan from his lips. Her cheeks warmed as the scent of her arousal rose from between them. 

Sunk as she was in their kiss, she still heard the soft thumps and clangs in the kitchen. Jaime returned his lips to her breasts, drawing a soft whine from her as he sucked too hard on her sensitive nipples. He quickly removed his lips, licking the red bud in apology before moving lower on her body. As he licked and nibbled the small bump of her belly, she whispered, “Jaime, we’re not alone.” Only bookshelves hid them from his brother and father.

He looked at her as he opened his mouth and playfully bit on the taut skin of her stomach before sucking. She hissed and moaned as he smiled at her in between nips.  
“We-we. . .Jaime, we have no door,” she stammered as he nipped at her left hipbone while brushing his knuckles against the moistening cluster of curls between her thighs.

“If we keep it down, they won’t hear us fucking,” he whispered before his lips trailed down her left thigh. “Fuck me, wench, how is it that it’s only now I’ve discovered you have freckles here?” His tongue flicking at random points indicated he was licking each one. She squirmed. 

They should behave themselves, but she cooed and thrust toward his lips encouragingly. He grinned in approval, green eyes gleaming at her before he once again caught supple skin between teeth and sucked hard.

“J-Jaimee . . .”

“Hush, my love. We have to celebrate. I was planning to propose over a fancy dinner before fucking your brains out. Looks like we’ll have to do that in reverse.” His hand was gentle as it coasted around her belly. “As we’ve been doing with everything else. Still, a celebration is a celebration.” 

“Tyrion is here!” She gasped softly as rubbed his elegant nose against the curls of her cunt. Squeezing her eyes shut at the sensual tickle it was causing, she wheezed out, “Your father!” 

“Well, wench, as exciting it is to get caught, I’d rather they don’t watch me fucking you.” He teased, infuriating as ever. She wished she wasn’t blushing so hard as she glared at him. “So, hush. I've been wanting to fuck _my fiancee_ for a while.”

“Jaime, I have a meeting later. You can not fuck my. . .you know, you can’t fuck my brains out!” Her protest was a feeble moan as he pulled her legs over his shoulders and pried her cunt lips open, the action resulting in a somewhat loud, squelching sound. Brienne was deep scarlet from forehead to breasts as Jaime grinned at her excitedly.

“Probaby not this morning. But I can fuck you such that you’ll be thinking about it all day.” He promised arrogantly before taking a deep whiff of her cunt. “ _By the gods, wench._ You smell so fucking good.” He grinned as she reddened then proceeded to marvel at the thick, copious streams of moisture coating her inner lips. His breath was unsteady. “Such a wench. Look at you so wet. How can you not want me to fuck you when you look like this, my love?” 

She would smack him on the head for being so ridiculous but his tongue landed right on her swollen nub. She jerked against him, mouth falling open to cry out. Barely holding on to her senses, she pushed her fist in her ,mouth to muffle her moans. His tongue circled round and round, alternating with gentle kisses and too-loud slurps. She was so wet he slipped a finger easily in her, then another, followed by a third. Jaime was so outrageous, she managed to think—the last of her coherent thought as the rough, heavenly motions of his fingers dragged a cry from her. 

Gods, she could get used to having him treat her like this all day. Everyday. She squeezed mercilessly around his fingers, promising him this gift once he gave her his cock.

Her pants were loud, sharp plumes of air as he growled hungrily, shoving his tongue in her cunt and fucking her even more, wrenching her towards another orgasm while she was still in the throes of the first. Hot damn, was she going to be like this pregnant? Jaime felt so good it was sinful. Lost and floating she barely noticed when he spread her legs wider and wrapped his lips around her clit again. She felt like wildfyre—no, she was wildfyre. Grunting, she pumped against his face furiously, her fingers pinching and pulling at her still-swollen nipples. Sanity returned to her just in time to turn her head to the side and shout against the pillow.

Pink and red all over, her chest and stomach shiny with sweat, her thighs wet and raked by his beard, she was still sunk in the pleasure of her release when Jaime pulled her up and set her on his lap. The rough, short hairs on his thighs tickled the back of her thighs and the lower part of her ass. Her ankles crossed at the middle of his back. His t-shirt was damp with sweat too and she pushed her nose against the side of his neck, biting him as he thrust up inside her cunt made softer from her orgasm. Gods. He was a monster. Still weak, she could only cling to his shoulders and gasp and coo against his ear as he fucked her, his cock urging her cunt to stretch open some more. They had fucked like this before but today, with each delicious thrust, he was touching parts of her she didn’t know about. 

“Jaime,” she whimpered. All that she knew of this world was his cock inside her and his name. She cupped his face in her hands and he kissed her hard. 

“Tell me you love me, wench,” he ordered gruffly. His hands on her hips would be leaving bruises.

“I love you.” She moaned just before he shoved his tongue in her mouth. She sucked on it and his cock swelled even more. “Jaime, I love you. I choose you. Always.” 

Her words drew his body into a very taut coil. Knowing he was about to come, she kissed him harder. His nails dug in the supple skin of her ass as he buried his groan in her mouth.

He continued to hold her limp, heavy form against him for a while. Just as Brienne was beginning to recover, Jaime bit on the tip of her ear and set her down on the bed. Puzzled, she looked at him spreading her legs wide with his knees. She bit her lip, realizing what was going to happen.

His emerald eyes twinkled before he kissed her. “Again.”

 

 

Tyrion made a face. Bad enough to be around to hear the unmistakable, frantic thumps of the headboard against the wall. Hearing those wet sounds and groans that could only come from a very vigorous fucking was awkward as fuck. No wonder Jaime looked dazed all the time lately. Brienne with her muscles and long legs must be one excellent fuck. Which also explained why Oberyn Martell didn’t want to let her go. 

Tyrion started whistling to stop hearing the sounds that his brother was deliberately making just to infuriate him and their father. Tywin was frowning as he sat up from the sofa bed. He looked sleepy and disgruntled and definitely did not approve that Tyrion was in a good mood. He could just imagine Tywin trying to give Jaime a lecture about proper behaviour when guests slept over, and Jaime, as usual, retorting that as long as they were under his roof, he would fuck his fiancée as much and as loudly as he liked. Yeah, that would make up for how we woke up this morning. 

“Good morning, Father,” Tyrion said casually as he put a fresh array of rolls, croissants and muffins on a large plate. He uncapped the jar of homemade preserves purchased from where he got the pastries. 

Tywin stretched and got up from the couch. “Where’s the bathroom?”

“Behind those shelves, towards the left,” Tyrion replied. What he would give to have his father catch Jaime probably still fucking Brinne—the noises had disappeared now—but some sense of loyalty told him not to. “But I wouldn’t go there yet, if I were you.”

“Why not?”

“Their bedroom is right across.” Tyrion got the jug of orange juice. This, he got from the convenience store right next to the bakery. He had He had hit the bakery at the corner and a twenty-four-hour convenience store earlier because he woke up starving. “There’s no door.”

Just then, Jaime emerged from the shelves. His t-shirt was rumpled though his pajamas strangely pressed and crisp. Looking more smug than usual, he nodded at them. He sat on one of the chairs and Tyrion caught a whiff of Brienne’s soap on him. Yep. They were definitely fucking. “Good morning.”

“Can I use the bathroom now?” Tywin demanded, shooting him a questioning look then Tyrion.

“Brienne’s there. Don’t worry, she won’t be long.” Jaime said as he reached for a chocolate croissant. He chewed, getting some of the flakes on his beard. “You made some coffee?” He asked Tyrion, noticing he was filling up glasses with orange juice.

“Is Brienne allowed coffee?” Tyrion asked then clamped his lips shut at Jaime’s warning look. 

Tywin, fortunately, was busy checking his phone and scrolling through emails. Jaime left the kitchen to check on Brienne. Then he returned shortly and said, “The bathroom’s free now, Father.”

“Good, good,” Tywin muttered distractedly, tapping a few keys on the phone. Then he left his phone on the coffee table and went to the bathroom.

As soon as he was out of the earshot, Tyrion hissed, “What the fuck was that about?”

“Only you know outside of us that she’s pregnant,” Jaime hissed back as he spooned a gourmet brew into the canister of the coffeemaker. “Brienne and I still have to discuss when we’re telling people.”

Tyrion understood. Still, he couldn’t resist smirking and retorting, “Better moving that up the schedule, Bro. I only see her kneecaps most of the time but even I can tell she’s grown a bust. A promising pair if you ask me. Or you can tell her to start wearing a bra. Do you want her to?” He pushed himself up a chair and bit on a puffy, light-as-air croissant. 

Jaime narrowed his eyes before filling pouring water. “Don’t ogle at my fiancee’s tits.”

Tyrion shrugged. “I’ll try. I’m only half a man, after all.” He grinned as Jaime glared at him. Adopting a serious tone, he asked, “How are you? After last night?”

“I don’t know.” Jaime sat across from him and split a muffin in half before spreading a thick slather of preserves on it. “I mean, it’s good he knows now. How do you think he’s doing?”

“He seemed more concerned with his kidneys bursting. But I haven’t been with Father this early for so long. Give him time,” Tyrion advised. 

“How do you think our cousins are taking it?” Jaime had mentioned last night about encountering Tyrek and Selyne. Tyrion said they couldn’t be found. He was in contact with Jon, and so knew he had flown in last night to speak to his children. 

“Still no word,” Tyrion answered. He nodded in the direction Tywin had disappeared to. “What do you think he’ll do to his brother and sister?” 

“Whatever it is,” Jaime said, the coughing and grinding sound of the coffeemaker nearly drowning out his voice. “I’d rather not know. It’s not that I don’t care but I know what I’m ready to do. Brienne and I have discussed it. Beyond that.” He raised his hands to indicate what he meant.

“You’re asking a lot from her, Jaime,” Tyrion said.

“I know.”

“No, no. You misunderstand. Don’t you get the current situation she’s in? I know you’ve always regarded it as something that applies to both of you but remember, she’s the one getting the divorce. She’s the one who has to get close to that Martell fucker whether she wants to or not just so she can finally wriggle her way to freedom. She’s carrying a child that may not be yours—“

“It’s mine.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know you’re committed. You love her. On top of that, she’s the one who has to deal with our father once he’s through with everyone else. And you want her to be okay with the possibility of your, I don’t know, incest-child living with you? I know you’re an idiot, Jaime. But not that big of an idiot. Better you ask her to serve you the moon. It’s easier.”

“Hey, I know what I’m asking her. It’s not something I came to lightly.”

“You should have waited a while. Brienne strikes me as someone who hardly thinks about herself. She might have said, sure, smiled at you, gave you the best blow job afterward to assure you it’s okay, but I’m telling you, she’s not one hundred percent behind that decision—“

“I know.” Jaime scraped a palm through his face impatiently. “I know. She told me it’s difficult.”

Tyrion shook his head. “You should have waited.”

“You don’t have to tell me again. I know what I’m asking of her. I didn’t want to but I love and trust her. That means sometimes putting that person in a shit of situation and hoping to the Seven she doesn’t leave. Well, last night, I asked her, officially, to marry me.” Jaime took a bite of the muffin. “She said yes.”

Tyrion blinked at him disbelievingly. Jaime nodded and slid off the stool to get the coffee. He poured them into three mugs and returned to the table, once again looking smug.

“I suppose I should say congratulations,” Tyrion said slowly. “Brienne really does love you.” Then he grinned, just to annoy him once again. “Or you have a magic cock.”

“Fuck off,” Jaime growled, trying to look menacing. But he was smiling at someone past Tyrion’s head, once again wearing a dazed, lovesick expression. Tyrion rolled his eyes and looked behind him. 

Brienne was wearing a similar expression, her cheeks a lovely, healthy pink. Tyrion pretended to leer at her breasts jiggling under the blouse, the taut points of her nipples straining against it but she was too busy staring at Jaime to notice. He looked at her face and saw her lips were very red and swollen. _Maybe my brother doesn't have a magic cock. It's Brienne with the magic mouth._

“Morning Tyrion,” she said, giving him a quick smile before walking straight into Jaime’s open arms. 

Then clearly retaliating for annoying him, Jaime quirked an eyebrow at Tyrion before he turned to Brienne and gave her kiss that shouldn’t ever be done outside the bedroom.


	2. The Lion's Way

Well, here we are, Jaime thought as he took a sip of coffee. His eyes flickered to Brienne, who was showing extreme fascination with the chocolate croissants on her plate. Tyrion was tearing off the rolls on his plate into chunks and tossing them in his mouth like popcorn, his eyebrows wiggling at his brother. Tywin was staring at the pile of pastries around them with a mix of distaste and disappointment before sighing and pouring more coffee for himself. 

Conversation was sparse but this morning was so much better than the ones he’d had in recent months. Stressful was one word to describe everything that was going on and there was a lot. Now, more, with Oberyn making true his promise to destroy the Lannisters with the incest scandal. Jaime found that he cared little about that. He was sorry that his cousins were being cast in the worst light over something that was not his fault but he preferred to focus on good things. There were so little to be had in this world and he didn’t want them gone due to lack of gratitude. He glanced at Brienne, flushed to her neck, the gap between her collarbones and shirt giving a glimpse of the rasp of his beard on her skin. Tall and impressive, she looked vulnerable this morning, with even an air of fragility. Suddenly, Jaime wished they were alone. If they were, he'd caress her stomach and watch her eyes brighten with desire and love for him. He would trace her long neck with kisses and save her full, pillowy mouth for the last.

Instead, he settled for grasping her hand under the table. She glanced at him in both relief and gratitude. He gave her a half-smile and, still holding her hand, continued eating.

“We have things to talk about,” Tywin announced, startling them. Jaime met his father’s stare, who then looked at Brienne. “That includes you, Brienne.”

“What about?” Jaime really wanted to know. He couldn’t imagine Tywin wanting to report his abuse. The statute of limitations had passed and even if it hadn’t, Jaime had no wish to narrate to the court what had happened. 

Tyrion caught his eye and mouthed, _Calm down._

“For one thing, your relationship. I would not interfere. You are both adults and can think on your own. But this situation. . .” He gestured loosely. “While the divorce is ongoing, it isn’t really wise to be living together.”

He looked at Brienne as he spoke.Jaime realized what he was insinuating and let out an annoyed huff.

“This was my idea. Brienne had her own place up until a month ago but I convinced her to live with me.” That was the truth. Brienne thought exactly as Tywin had but Jaime was selfish enough to want her with him now that she was out of Oberyn’s clutches. That and he just didn’t want to be parted from her any more than necessary. 

“Tyrion and I have no proof that Oberyn was behind it but we’ve discovered bugs here and the store. We’ve cleared that and improved the security. I refused to risk Brienne’s safety for what else he might do that’s why she’s with me. Besides, we’re engaged.”

“And then there is that. Who else knows?”

“Just us. And Gerion, from that night.” Jaime replied. “We might be impulsive but we’re not idiots, Father. We know better than to make an announcement like that for now.” _Among other things._ He glanced at Brienne’s stomach and saw that she was sitting stiffly. She was thinking the same thing.

“It’s not the smartest decision, true, but it’s our life and our choice.” He added firmly. 

Seeing there was no persuading him otherwise, Tywin looked resigned but said, “See to it that you remain discreet, although with your living situation, I don’t know much farther you can do that.” He turned to Brienne. “Tyrion tells me that your husband was arrested yesterday.”

“For tax evasion,” Brienne answered then glanced at Jaime and Tyrion. Seeing this, Tywin’s tone gentled.

“Tyrion told me what you asked him to do. That was right. I just want to make sure that what’s happened to Martell doesn’t happen to you as well. I have the impression that Oberyn was able to put away large amounts of money due to some magic his accountant was doing. What’s his name again?” He asked Tyrion.

“Petyr Baelish.”

“They were roommates in college,” Brienne added. “He did my taxes too but I had Tyrion go over mine just in case, when he started investigating Oberyn.”

“And she’s in the clear, Father. But you have to be ready to be questioned,” Tyrion cautioned her. 

She nodded. _There she is, the woman I love,_ Jaime thought proudly at how her chin wobbled while her sapphire eyes were iron. 

“I’m expecting them any day now.”

“Now for what we really must talk about.” Tywin looked at the three of them in the eye before continuing. “We’re going to be besieged worse by media today. Tyrion is gathering all information and facts before he drafts a press statement. We will never face the press but we will issue an official statement and leave it at that.” His eyes went straight to Jaime’s. “You went through an unforgivable violence, son, and there is no excuse for how I never knew. Still, I am sorry. I should have protected you.” He nodded at Tyrion. “Both of you. You have my word that Cersei will never have anything to do with the family and our businesses starting today.”

It was a sound decision but Jaime felt he had to interject. “Father, she’s still the mother of Tyrek and Selyne.”

“And she’s proven to be unfit. I have no doubt that Jon Umber has started to work on how to get sole custody of Selyne. Tyrek is already twenty so there’s nothing to be done about it. The courts will approve in his favour. But you have to be ready that you might be brought to court to testify against your aunt. I’ll do whatever I can to prevent that but it if ensures Cersei is out, you are cooperating.”

“Selyne might be mine, Father.” Jaime said and similar to last night, Tywin flinched. Brienne tightened her grip around him. “Look, I admire what Jon plans to do but she might be my daughter. How do you think she’ll feel when she finds out about this?”

“The thing is, we’re not even sure if she really is yours. The reason behind our issuing a statement and why we intend to acquiesce with Jon Umber’s demands is to kill this right away. You plan to demand for a DNA test? Think of the girl. Whether she’s yours or Gerion’s, you’ll mess with her head. We’re still trying to give her what normalcy is still possible after this. Her knowing for sure that you’re her father or not doesn’t help.”

Brienne squeezed his hand and prompted, “Jaime, tell him.”

Tyrion shook his head at them but Jaime was determined.

“Selyne should at least know that aside from the man she knows as her father, she also has another choice in her biological father. Brienne and I have talked. She can stay with us if she likes. Don’t you think people will speculate even more when she leaves Westeros? Moving her all the way to White Harbor would just arouse more suspicions instead of plugging them.”

“You think living with you and Brienne will?”

“Your statement will no doubt dismiss all that Oberyn has released as lies. You intend to cast Cersei out of the family and the business. It makes more sense for her to remain here, with us, because her mother is unstable. Jon will still have custody of her. In fact, Selyne and Tyrek can stay with us, if they wished.” Jaime declared. “I know I’m overstepping here but if it turns out that I’m her father, I can not in good conscience allow her to be taken away from here. We have to give her as much as normalcy as still possible, yes, but in the place she lives in now, not in White Harbor.”

Tywin was silent for a moment but said, “And if it’s her choice to move?”

Jaime swallowed. “I won’t stand in the way.”

“Cersei is the main instigator here but what about Uncle Gerion?” Tyrion asked them. “If you ask me, he should be accountable too. Cersei fucked him in the mind royally but he was a child,” he said, gesturing at Jaime. Brienne squeezed his hand as he tensed. “But Gerion was a sane adult when he fucked his twin sister. What in Seven Hells is his excuse?” 

With truly a lot to cover, it was clear things wouldn’t be settled at this hour. Jaime saw them off the door. Tywin had offered to drop off Brienne at the museum, making her blush so hard that Jaime thought to step in and said he would take care of her. Brienne looked relieved and stammered that they still had some things to discuss. Tywin reminded them once again to be discreet then left. Tyrion, however, patted Brienne on the hand and told her, “Never mind the old lion, Brienne. We’ll keep in touch. And congratulations.”

As soon as the door shut behind them, Jaime turned to Brienne. “What was that all about with my father?”

“It’s a little awkward for me, Jaime.”

“Tyrion’s there.”

“Still awkward. Let it go, okay?”

“Fine.” He pulled her in his arms and she kissed him on the cheek. Her shoulders were tensed so he rubbed them, looking at her curiously. “Are you alright?”

“Your father scares me,” she admitted hesitantly.  
His sweet, brave wench. She was too much for the heart at times. Jaime smiled at her comfortingly while cupping her cheek.

“Wench, if you’re not shaking in your boots at the mere thought of Tywin Lannister, you’re probably dead. He _is_ a scary man. But you have nothing to worry about. I think he likes you.” 

Brienne snorted. “Right.”

“I’m serious.” Jaime had no doubt that Tywin had a lot of misgivings regarding their relationship but Brienne’s loyalty should impress him. If you wanted to be on his good side, he had to know about your loyalty. Nothing more disgusted Tywin than a turncoat. The fact that he included Brienne in their discussion spoke a lot though she didn’t realize that.

“But you do have to give him time. He’s a father protecting his baby boy,” he joked, hoping to make her laugh. It worked.

“A big baby.” Brienne teased, kissing him again.

Now that they were alone, Jaime tugged her blouse away from her slacks to caress the bare skin of her stomach. She moaned and pressed her lips to his jaw. He brushed his lips on her shoulder as he continued touching the firm span of her stomach.

“I wish you didn’t have to leave,” he confessed, looking in her eyes. “I wish we can just stay here with the baby forever.”

“Don’t tempt me.” She leaned her forehead on his. “Jaime, your father doesn’t know yet about the baby, does he?”

“No. I thought we’d decide together when to tell him and other people.” Part of Jaime wanted to shout from the rooftop that he was going to be a father but there was a part, rational and calm, that told him what a grave mistake it would be right now. So far, Oberyn had demonstrated that he didn’t make idle threats. They couldn’t risk that he was intelligent enough to do the math and realize the baby might be biologically his. 

“Well,” Brienne bit her lip. “I’ve been thinking.”

She took his hand and led him to the couch. They sat down and Jaime saw from the deep grooves between her pale eyebrows just how hard she was thinking. Now he was tensed. She had no desire to do what was required of her.

“Tyrion mentioned before that your father would back us one hundred percent if it’s certain that I’m carrying your child. Based on recent. . .revelations, I can’t. . .I don’t think I can deal with Oberyn winning yet again. I need him to go away. You know this.” There was a hint of desperation and pleading with the last sentence.

Looking at her carefully, Jaime said, “Continue.”

“I don’t want you to think I’m using your father but I don’t know what else can be done. And I’m scared. I know I shouldn’t be and I’m so sorry. Fuck,” she muttered, the gravity of frustration brought to the core by the displeasure in her face over how she was behaving. Jaime put a hand on her knee for comfort but it didn’t do much. Speaking more to herself than him, she murmured, “Oberyn’s filed a claim that I turn over my father’s house to him to get the divorce but. . .I’d buy his share, pay a bit more but it’s not something I can afford right now. And Tyrion mentioned that your father’s way is to throw money at the problem literally. . .”

Jaime’s eyes sharpened. “You want to see if Tywin would pay Oberyn off. Which he would do if the little one is every inch a Lannister.” He cleared his throat. “Biologically.”

“I don’t like this idea, Jaime.” Brienne was begging him to see her reason with her eyes. “With what’s going on. . .but if I could secure a loan or something. . . “

“Forget about it, wench.” He said so quickly it was like he was snapping at her. As she winced, he kissed her neck in apology then said, “I’m giving you the money.”

“What? You can’t!” Brienne cried out. Jaime wanted to laugh at her reaction.

“Just how poor do you think I am?” He chided her. 

“You can’t even afford Tyrion.”

“You know how much he charges for an hour. That’s how brilliant he is. My own brother would turn me into a pauper. But I have assets and stock shares, not to mention actual money in several banks. I’m a Lannister, wench, you seem to forget. I am not connected to the family business any more but I can assure you I’m very comfortable. Whatever amount that bastard demands I’ll match.” 

“Even if you can, I have no assets or anything as collateral!”

“I told you I’m _giving_ you the money. Why would you need collateral?” 

She shook her head vehemently. “No. No, Jaime. It doesn’t feel right.”

“You’re going to be my wife. It can’t hurt to practice acting like one.” 

“Stop joking and be serious will you!” She growled, all red and glorious in her irritation. Seven Hells, she was fucking arousing like this. Jaime had to temper the lust beginning to surge in him. Now if only his stiffening cock would listen.

He rolled his eyes. “There are no loans between married couples.”

She glared at him. “There are between engaged people.”

“If you’re worried about the absence of any actual collateral, how could you think Tywin would give you a loan?” He pointed out. When Brienne let out a loud sigh, he smacked a hand to his head. “Oh, fuck, right. Because of the baby. He’ll protect it no questions asked.”

“I knew this was a fucking ridiculous idea,” Brienne muttered, crossing her arms.

“Hey, now. It was quite good. But wench, when we tell him about the baby,” Jaime said, once again putting a hand on her stomach, “don’t you think it’s better if it’s under the flag of something still good and wonderful in this shitty world instead of, I don’t know, doing it so he’ll save our asses?”

Her shoulders slumped. “Don’t you think I wish that?” A tremor in her lower lip betrayed just how tortured she was with what she’d been thinking. “I’ve been wishing for a lot lately. I wish my Dad’s around. I’d be embarrassed to ask him about this or. . .with the circumstances that brought us together but I know he would have been happy about the baby. I know I should stop whining but it’s so fucking hard.”

“Have patience, my love. I call this a definite improvement.” At her questioning look, he explained, “You’re not thinking of leaving me.”

“Of course not. I love you and I stand by you.”

“And as of last night, you’re marrying me,” he reminded her, unable to hide his pleasure about it.

Some calm returned to her eyes. “Yeah,” she whispered. “I’m marrying you.”

“And we’re having a baby.” Jaime tweaked her nose. “Wench, we’ll tell Tywin and everyone else about the baby because we’re ready, not because it’s some bargaining chip. And stop worrying about the money.” 

“You can’t possibly have what Oberyn would demand,” she insisted.

“I hate to prove you wrong, wench. But Oberyn made the mistake of crossing Lannisters. He clearly didn’t hear about that popular saying about us and debts.” Jaime kissed her to erase the worry from her eyes. “Well. I can always send him my regards.” 

Still unsure, she said, “Jaime. . .”

“Shush, now. He said he’ll sign the divorce papers if you give him the house. Don’t fucking do that. Have Ned get in touch with his lawyer asap about our proposal. If he’s as smart as he thinks he is, he’ll take it. If not. . .” 

Brienne touched his cheek and shook her head. So Jaime left it unspoken that if Oberyn made things harder, he would be the storm to destroy him. 

“And you do have collateral, wench,” he said, a teasing smile resulting in his dimples deepening. Frowning in question, she tilted her head. He added dramatically, “Your heart.”

“Stop it. This is serious.”

“I am being serious. I make your husband go away and you have to marry me. Best deal of the century, if you ask me.”

“I don’t have to marry you, Jaime,” she told him, flicking him playfully between the eyes. He chuckled.“I _want_ to marry you.”

“Good of you to make that clear,” he remarked, touching her lips briefly with his fingertips. “I was beginning to think you only want to marry me for the money,” he joked. 

Expecting her to snort and hit him, Brienne’s eyes dimmed instead. He sat up from and took her chin, forcing her to look at him. “Hey, wench. That was a joke. We can still make jokes.”

“I know. I was just being silly.” Her smile was sincere but it didn’t hide the hurt in her eyes. 

“Brienne,” he said, still not letting her go. “I was really joking.”

“And I’m being sensitive. Don’t worry about it, okay?”

Even as she kissed him and everything else receded except for the warmth of her mouth rubbing against his, Jaime knew something very important was not being said. 

 

After a quick shower and a change of clothes in the bathroom in his office, Tywin Lannister pronounced himself ready to face the day. He summoned his two executive assistants, who oversaw a team of other assistants. 

They were Gregor Clegane and Missandei Naath. Their constrasting appearance was a deliberate choice on Tywin’s part, so that anyone seeing them for the first time would be jarred. Both were dressed in elegant, tailored suits. Even in a tame, dark gray suit, there was no mistaking that Gregor was Tywin’s officer, with his massive build and impressive six-foot-eight height. Missandei looked delicate with her skinny frame but there was a clever sparkle in her dark eyes. She was Tywin’s interpreter due to her fluency in nineteen languages. 

“Any more calls from the press?” Tywin asked as he sat behind his glass desk. 

“Yes. All requesting for interviews. All denied,” Missandei answered.

“See to it that you get their contact details for when we issue an official statement today,’ Tywin instructed her. To Gregor, he said, “I need you to get in touch with the board and members of my family for an emergency meeting at two p.m. today. No excuses.”

“Done,” Gregor promised.

“I also need increased security around the perimeter of the building to prevent anyone who isn’t an employee from entering here.” Tywin told Missandei. “I also want you to work with I.T. right away regarding our firewalls. No doubt there’s going to be hacks. They won’t find anything but I want to be sure.”

As Missandei nodded, Tywin said to Gregor, “Keep an eye on Jon Umber and Cersei Lannister. Or do you have something new to report?”

“Your niece and nephew have been found.” Gregor replied. “I’m in contact with Mr. Umber.”

“Tell him to secure Tyrek and Selyne and to make himself free for the meeting today as well. Tell him not to show up without Cersei. I also want Tyrion and the rest of my legal counsel in this office right away.”

Then he dismissed them. Gregor opened the door for Missandei then went after her. 

Tywin’s morning was full of meetings and consultations. Tyrion, sitting at his right, emphasized to the other counsel members the importance of Tywin’s demands. They kept insisting that it was next to impossible due to arrangements their father made before his death. But Tywin was adamant.

“That woman will never be near my family again unless she has a death wish,” he declared. “See to it she realizes she’ll set off land mines if she merely thinks of seeing us.”

As they took a break, Gregor entered the office. He bent to whisper in Tywin’s ear, whose grave face got even more grave. “Everyone out. Tyrion, stay here.” He ordered. The rest of the team shuffled to the door with their papers.

Tyrion looked at Tywin curiously. Tywin nodded at Gregor. “Send him in.”

Gregor opened the door and Gerion Lannister entered the room. Then Gregor excuses himself.

Tywin fought to keep a poker face as he glowered at his younger brother. Jaime was a lot like him but unlike Gerion, Jaime was not as reckless. They had an affinity for married women, true, but to Tywin’s knowledge, Brienne was no blood relation. “Sit,” he ordered his brother.

Often looking smug and carrying himself with arrogant, entitled ease, Gerion looked none of that as he slumped on the chair. His golden blond hair had been raked numerous times by fingers and his handsome face lined with stress. His rumpled clothes indicated he had been wearing them since yesterday.

“Scotch?” Tywin asked as he reached for the bottle in the sideboard.

“I don’t believe a drink would do anything for me at the moment, brother,” Gerion retorted.

“At the moment, you do as I tell you or I’ll hang you.” Tywin told him as he strode forward with a glass half-full with scotch. “Drink.”

Gerion glanced at Tyrion, who shrugged. He took a sip of the scotch.

Tywin’s eyes were ice.“All of it.”

“It’s eleven in the morning!”

“I wonder if you protested as much when Cersei started fucking you. Or was it the other way around?” Tywin demanded. “Drink. It. All.”

Gerion clearly wanted to protest again so Tywin put a hand under the glass and tipped it toward him. Gerion coughed and sputtered as he was forced to down the potent liquid, nearly choking from the burn spreading in his throat. Done, Tywin snatched the glass away and set it on his desk. He continued to stare at his brother without saying a word. Tyrion felt both sorry and uncomfortable for his uncle but there was little he could do. Anyone who crossed Tywin now would pay dearly. 

“So you do as you’re told,” Tywin drawled. “Good. Because you will be told to do a lot of things and you will follow. Not a word from you until told otherwise.”

“I know what I did was wrong.”

“Did you?”

Gerion flinched. “There’s no excuse. I’m not here to defend myself. I was in a bad place. Cersei and I were. We turned to each other. . .for comfort.”

“Comfort is patting someone on the head, you fool, not dropping your trousers and getting your cock out!”

“Oh, so that’s what’s comfort is for you, Tywin Lannister,” Gerion snapped. “Tywin the Terrible, you know that’s what people say about you behind your back? You’re a ruthless son of a bitch and you thrive on that. You can’t live without people quaking at the sight of you. Even your own sons.”

“This isn’t about them.”

“No, it’s not. But you treat people like shit. No one respects you. They fear you.”

“And why would that be a problem?”

“Look at your own family! You were so drunk on being powerful you didn’t know what our sister did to Jaime. Power and power and fucking power. Well, fuck power! You’ve turned our sister into a brood mare with no account for her feelings!”

“Interesting of you to say that,” Tywin said coldly. “Given the fact that I’ve never fucked her nor passed off any child as some other man’s!”

“I told her to have an abortion. She wouldn’t. She wanted to fuck you and Jon Umber.” Gerion growled. “I know what I did but I’m not the only one at fault here.”

“You knew what you did? But according to reports you had an affair. You clearly fucked more than once. That's not.the actions of a person making hthat claim.”

“Cersei got herself in this mess. I wanted to end it but our dear sister needed comforting.”

“Again, a pat on the head would have sufficed.” 

“Fuck you, Tywin.”

Tywin threw him a look of utter disgust. “Is that all you have to say? You’re a disgrace. Fucking your sister—a woman who raped your nephew—my son! Willingly making a fool of another man. You are a bigger idiot than I thought because you were between Cersei’s legs and never knew about Jaime.” He was barely restraining the rage that wanted to overtake him as he spoke every word slowly and menacingly. “It’s my fault I did not protect my son. I’ll never forgive myself that. But how can you look at yourself every morning and believe yourself to be a decent man? Because there’s no excuse to what you and Cersei did. Father nearly destroyed our family and our empire—and I bled and sweated to put us back on top for all of us. So forgive me for amassing as much power, brother. I certainly had no need for the thanks you and that whore thought to give.”

Gerion chuckled sarcastically. “Just so you know, Ty, we fucked because it felt good.”

Tywin looked absolutely sickened. Tyrion got off his chair and raced on his short legs to get between them. “Uncle Gerion, maybe you should excuse yourself—“

“Cersei doesn’t have a lot going for her between the ears but she knows how to suck a man’s cock. Sister or not, I’d be a fool to turn that down.” Gerion chuckled bitterly at Tywin’s pained expression while Tyrion visibly swallowed. “Our sister despised you to levels you can never imagine. It gave her a kick passing off our son as Jon’s—who’s not that smart at all, come to think of it. Selyne, well. I’d be proud to call her mine but she might be Jaime’s. Rape, you say? You tell me she was raping Jaime until he was thirty?”

“Uncle Gerion,” Tyrion warned him, his stomach twisting at the unpleasant images forming in his mind. “Leave.”

“No,” Tywin suddenly said. “Get the papers, Tyrion.”

“Father, this isn’t the time—“

“Now is the time because your uncle is never setting foot here ever again.” Tywin snapped. He nodded at Gerion, his green eyes glinting eerily. “That was an impressive display of devotion to your twin, Gerion. I hope you are ready to know just how much it’s going to cost you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I updated the warning tags because Jaime's abuse would be mentioned quite a lot in this installment. No scenes (writing THAT ONE in an early installmentwas so harrowing)here but due to many mentions, I anticipate people would be uncomfortable reading about it.
> 
> Heed the tags but please don't shame me. That's what they are for so you know what may happen or skip this entirely. Thank you.


	3. Goodbye

“You are mad,” Cersei Lannister seethed. Small, even white teeth flashed as she snapped at the people surrounding her. Her beautiful face skewing, she cried out, “All of you are mad!” 

Snarling, she vaulted off her chair from the head of the conference table and stomped toward the door. She threw it open only to find two burly security guards blocking her. 

“Get. Out. Of. My. Way.”

“Return to your seat, Aunt Cersei.” Tyrion told her from his seat. “We’re not finished.”

“Not finished?” Cersei whipped around and glared at him, Kevan Lannister and Jon Umber. “Oh, we are very much done, imp. One more word from you and I’ll tear you to pieces myself.”

“I’d like to remind you that the proceedings are being recorded.”

Lost, Cersei flung another contemptuous look at the guards and slammed back on her chair. 

Tyrion looked at the guards and nodded, indicating they could leave. They closed the door. 

“Where we left off, you were being instructed about selling your shares back to the family,” Tyrion told her. “You would see that this is done immediately and before you leave the building and its premises. You will sign a non-disclosure agreement regarding the details of your extremely limited contact with current and future members of the Lannisters and the Umbers beginning today. Any violation of this would result in a lawsuit.”

“Fuck you, Tyrion.” She growled. “Fuck all of you.”

“Due to the intentional deceit you’ve participated in with regard to the true parentage of your children with Jon Umber, he has every right to sue you and demand reimbursement of the money and other funds he had provided as arrangement for your divorce. They number in the millions—millions you would no longer have. Instead, he plans to make no such refund or repayment of any kind. Tyrek and Selyne will retain their shares in North Umber Oil but you will turn over yours to them. You will also give him sole custody of Selyne.”

“Selyne is not your daughter! She’s _mine_! They are my children!”

“The nature of their true parentage will never be made public, due to the potential harm and trauma it would cause to them. You are to never initiate any sort of contact with them unless they explicitly state so. Tyrek is an adult but Selyne is still a minor. Jon agrees to allow you visitation rights but they should be monitored by him or a representative appointed by the court and only for four hours. In one year.”

Horrified that she would see her daughter only once a year for less than a day, Cersei pleaded, “Jon, she’s my daughter. She needs me. You can’t do this!”

“Then why are you out almost every night, why are hardly home? I don’t have spies in your employ, you hateful bitch, but my daughter tells me things. Don’t you know what it does to me that instead of her mother looking after her it’s servants? You don’t care for her.”

“Please. You can’t keep me from my children!”

“Tyrek refuses to have anything to do with you. You will respect that wish for as long as it stands.”

Tyrion looked at the warring ex-couple before continuing.

“Father allows you to keep the monetary gains from the selling of your shares but no more than that. This leaves you with only the townhouse and your cars as your properties and assets. You are to never set foot in Casterly Rock or any property of the Lannisters or the Umbers unless with an explicit invitation agreed upon by at least three members of the families.”

Cersei froze. “Casterly Rock has been my home longer than you’ve been alive, you damned imp. Where’s your father? Why isn’t he the one telling me this? He’s a coward.”

“Given what you did to my brother, consider it a show of mercy from him that he’s not here. Elsewise he would throw you out the window or bash your pretty head on the desk until it’s powder.” 

She chuckled. “He wanted it. You think just because he was fifteen he knew nothing? He had a cock. He had been springing boners all around me that summer. I consider what I did giving him a favour. Rape, you say? He wasn’t protesting at all.” Enjoying Tyrion’s discomfort, she spoke with relish, “He begged me. He cried. `More, Aunt Cersei.’ `It feels good, Aunt Cersei.’ `I want to fuck—‘”

It was Kevan who shot from his seat this time and glowered at her. “I may not have soap to clean that dirty mouth of yours, sister, but one more lie out of you and I will do to you the first of the many things Tywin would do.”

Cersei smiled coldly. “Did you just threaten me?”

“I’m advising you.”

‘Fuck off.”

“Uncle,” Tyrion asked. “Please.”

Kevan kept his eyes on his sister as he sat down. Tyrion cleared his throat. 

“There’s a lot you have to do in the soonest possible time, Aunt. But we still have quite a lot to talk about.”

“You can’t wait to banish me and still you’re ordering me to linger.”

“Because there’s a clause here.” Tyrion handed the document to her and she refused to touch it, looking at it with disgust. “Stating that even if you sell all your shares today, you are barred from accessing profits from it unless you’ve fulfilled the following conditions.”

Her eyes suspicious, Cersei reluctantly reached for the paper and flipped on the page as Tyrion instructed. It didn’t take long for her eyes to narrow, her head raising as she gave them a murderous look.

“I’m to seek treatment to ensure I’m mentally sound?”

“It’s for your own good. We can not let a madwoman be left alone in the world. We’re not that cruel.” Tyrion said drily.

“No. You can not control my money—“

“That’s just the thing, Aunt. The company does. In effect, Father does. He will not turn over the profits of yours sales until a licensed psychiatrist—there’s a list of names and facilities at the back—goes on record declaring you are sane. You can’t possibly think that a woman who rapes a boy and goes on to fuck her brother—her twin brother—and pass off the children from these relationships as her children with another man—is of sound mind.” 

“I did not rape Jaime.”

“That’s what you think but not the law. The statute of limitations has gone and Father has no wish to feed fire to ongoing scandal. This is mercy, believe it or not.”

_“Mercy? You’re turning me out to the street!”_

"You and Gerion are getting exactly the same. Except for the sanity clause. But you raped my brother and your actions with _your_ brother are currently calling into question what my Father has achieved and violating what privacy remains that your children can still have. Trust me. Father wanted to leave you with nothing." 

“Of course he would. No one who makes Tywin look bad is apt to survive.” Cersei said snappishly. “But I am not insane.”

“Then we have nothing to worry about.” 

She turned to Jon. “Were you party to this?”

“If not for my children, I would destroy you.”

“They’re not yours.” 

“Tell me this, Cersei, the truth, if you’re still capable of that. Were you even planning on telling me? Or did you hate me so much that you’d do this? Was it only my money that made me bearable?”

“You knew how I felt from the very beginning. You were the one who was all hope and flowers, believing I’d love you.” Cersei let out a laugh, harsh and cruel. 

“And Tyrek and Selyne?”

Cersei looked him in the eye. “Unforeseen repercussions.”

Jon let out a breath. “Yet you fight for the custody of our daughter?”

“I only loved our children because they weren’t yours," she said simply. 

“You don’t love them,” Jon snapped. “You see them as property.”

“And aren’t they? I created them. They came from my body. They’re mine. They can curse me and do everything but even the gods can’t change that fact.”

“Again. Were you planning on even telling me?”

Cersei gave him a pitying look. “What do you think?”

She took the papers and made a show of flipping and reading their contents, her expression bored. Then, her smile maniacal, she tore off the first piece.

And the next.

Then she ripped the rest with the glee of a wild animal tearing into flesh. Long after the papers were reduced to bits like snowflakes falling and scattered around, the fury remained on her face. Tyrion, Kevan and Jon just watched her. Finished, she shook her head at them in mocking disappointment.

“You have betrayed me. All of you.”

“Maybe Father was right in having your head examined,” Tyrion retorted after a moment.

“I don’t regret fucking my brother and my nephew. Why should I?” Cersei’s eyes glittered as they bored hard on Tyrion’s face but her tone was flippant. “Jaime has a good-sized cock and I needed one at the moment I came to him. Rape, you say. He never resisted me. He called me beautiful. Couldn’t actually believe that Rhaegar left me for another who could never rival me, even in the dark. Jaime needed an education on women and I needed a cock. It was a fair exchange. Years later, when my brother was broken by another of his bimbos, I gave him what I needed. He needed me too. Families, after all, look out for each other. I have always been loyal.” She gave them a scathing look as she flung the rest of the torn documents at them. “This is how you repay me.”

Shocked at her audacity to cast herself as the wronged party, Tyrion demanded, “You actually see yourself as a victim in all this?”

“I _am_ the victim. Your father cursed me when I chose to marry Roose Bolton, the man I loved. He cursed me such that I bore a child that looked just like you. But he died. The gods did something right. But Roose wouldn’t have anything to do with me. He dropped me as if I was something useless. Your father forced me to marry Rhaegar and that one.” She said, glaring at Jon. “At least Rhaegar had class. Easy on the eyes. You’re a boor. I fucked other man just so I can stand you fucking me. I came to you many times still dripping with the seed of other men and you didn’t know.” 

“Because I loved you. I tried to love you but you wouldn’t have me,” Jon Umber told her.

“I am Cersei Lannister. The Lioness of Lannister. The most beautiful woman. How can you even think that I’d love the likes of you?”

Jon made to lunge toward her and Kevan grabbed him.

“You should leave.” He told Cersei.

“I will. But before I do, I want you to know that I do not regret anything I did that led to this moment. I did it to survive. I did it because it was the only thing left for me. Instead of understanding me, this is the kindness you give me.” Cersei got up gracefully from the chair. “I will not sign anything. I do not agree to anything you want me to do.”

Tyrion watch her saunter smugly to the door. The guards were no longer there. She smirked at them before she stepped out.

As soon as the doors closed, Tyrion pressed the button of the intercom.

“My aunt is on her way out. See to it that she never leaves the building without signing the proper legal documents. Force her if you must, I don’t care. Just get her bloody signature on paper.”

He had just finished speaking when they heard Cersei’s shouts of protest and heavy bodies thudding against the floor, the wall. Tyrion rushed out of the conference room followed by Jon and Kevan. They followed Cersei’s hysterical shouts and the calm, grunting voices of the security guards. Something delicate and made of glass was thrown and shattered on the floor.

Tyrion ran and saw two guards struggling to restrain his aunt. Cersei’s hair was a golden mess of waves falling over her eyes, the rest of her face. Her shoes had been kicked off in her struggle. 

She found Tyrion, Kevan and Jon. Then her eyes gazed at something past them. Tyrion turned and saw Tywin walking through the path the employees had created so he could pass. Tywin and Cersei glared silently at each other.

“Take her back to the room,” was all he said.

The guards moved but Cersei managed to dig her bare heels on the carpet. She smirked at Tywin. 

Tyrion froze as he saw a flash of sadistic glee in Cersei's eyes but it flickered away immediately. He wondered if he really saw it at all. 

“Before I go, know this, brother,” she spat. “I will hurt you for this. I don’t know yet, but give me time. A day will come when you think yourself safe and happy, and suddenly your joy will turn to ashes in your mouth, and you’ll know. You will bloody well know the debt is paid.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We take a break from Jaime and Brienne in this chapter. Cersei's crimes are a loose end so I felt I had to devote an entire chapter to that, as well as show some more Lannister family dynamics. They're not loving at all. But I think you'll agree with what they would strip from Cersei. 
> 
> Her last words in the chapter, are of course, from the brilliant GRRM. I committed the teeny sacrilege of tweaking it but otherwise, I wouldn't touch anything he writes. The characters of course, are his but the skewing, screwing and sexing, are all mine. :-) 
> 
> After this, we're in for some time jumps but not so much. Maybe a few days, a few weeks.


	4. Seeing the Future

“Fuck, that’s unfucking—“

_“Jaime—“_

“—believable. Fuck. Brienne. _Brienne_.”

“Unh. . .Jaime!”

Jaime’s eyes rolled to the back of his head momentarily before he looked at Brienne, panting and in the throes of an incoming orgasm. Grinning roguishly despite the criminally good tightening of her cunt around his cock, he tightened his hold on her and rolled so she was under him this time. Her eyes were nearly black with lust as she looked at him in both surprise and delight, retaliating with a smirk and tightening around him even more. Jaime cursed at the pleasure, his head falling back as he struggled from coming. 

Then he swept forward and grabbed her arms to pin them by her ears. He followed with quick, merciless thrusts, plunging past her grip to fuck her harder and deeper. Brienne’s eyes widened and this time he wore the smirk as he watched her features getting slack from the pleasure building to a sharp crescendo within her. He dropped his head and quickly latched on to a nipple still tight and aching from his kisses earlier. Brienne was done. She jerked and shrieked, the heels of her feet digging in his spine as she pumped hard against him. He tightened his hold on her trapped arms and fucked her right back. A hard suck on her nipple bordering on pain flung her right off the edge and she groaned loudly, obscenely, clinging to him with slick legs before her body fell on the floor like a limp sack. Jaime raised his head and planted his mouth right on her lips that were dry and cracked, his tongue moistening the abrasion before plunging deep into her mouth. With a curse, he finally let go of the little control left and came. 

“Seven Hells,” he gasped a few seconds later. He had collapsed right on top of her and now picked up his head. He closed his eyes at the gentle flutter of her fingers through his hair before he pulled out and rolled off, flopping on the carpeted floor. He looked at the state of her body with satisfaction. Hickeys all over, freckles standing out like red constellations on her milky skin, streams of sweat dripping down her legs. Her bush was dark and drenched. His limp cock began to twitch, but slightly.

Lying flat on her back, Brienne turned her head. His heart, having slowed down from the vigorous fucking, picked up again when she smiled, both shy and smug, her big teeth biting her lower lip. “Wicked wench,” he teased her, flicking at the tip of her nose playfully.

Brienne was flushed from their exertions and turned a deeper shade of red. She turned her head toward the ceiling.

“I can’t believe I survived that.”

“If I’d known that bringing you blueberry cheesecake would have you ripping off my clothes, I’d do it every day.” Jaime was still in disbelief over how she had pounced him. “Wench, that was fucking hot.”

As she hurdled through her first trimester, Brienne’s vomiting and food sensitivity had increased. Pickles and mayonnaise made her sick so they were banned from the house, as well as all kinds of fish. Chicken, she could tolerate but didn’t relish testing just how far because she could be sensitive about it too. Thus their fridge was stocked with steaks and vegetables only, and as she rounded up the last few weeks before the second trimester, her appetite slowly came back. Their cupboards crammed with the sugary brands of cereal that powered children for the day but could definitely kill the average adult. That was what Brienne liked, savoury and sweet flavours. Jaime had also seen her put away huge bags of potato chips with alarming regularity that he had to plead with her to switch to vegetables and fruits for snacks. She looked at him as if he had just asked her to slit her throat but agreed.

Brienne had been craving a particular brand of blueberry cheesecake all day so like the good, devoted fiancé that he was, Jaime took the umbrella and waded through the heavy rains for the bake shop three blocks away. He threw in extra chocolate eclairs too since Brienne was also mad for them.

He was still wet from the rain, had just finished putting away the food when Brienne attacked him from behind and announced with uncharacteristic bravado, belied only by the furious blush on her cheeks and rapidly blinking eyes that she wanted to fuck him. Like, now. 

Jaime forgot all about being dirty and cold from the rain when she dropped to her knees and sucked him without preamble. 

Jaime grinned as Brienne laughed and covered her reddening face with her hands, turning toward him as her legs curled to her chest. Enjoying her reaction, he continued, “I’d say that’s having your cock and eating it too. Or you having my cock and me eating you.” 

“Shut up, Jaime!” She exclaimed, groaning. Her face was still covered by her hands as he hauled her to his chest. Gently, he pried them away so he could look at her. 

She blinked at him, shyness once again returning to her face as her eyes fluttered down quickly only to rise and meet his gaze. Her eyes looked the bluest just after fucking him, dark yet bright, and vivid. He caught his breath at the beauty of her eyes, so pure and innocent. He brushed his lips against them.

Slowly, he coaxed and teased her body once again. She moaned into his mouth as she cupped his face adoringly, amazing him yet again at her gentleness and capacity for love. He brushed and rubbed his beard gently up and across her cheeks, down her neck, soothing the burn with long, indulgent licks. She shifted on her back, her arms and legs opening to cradle him.

Now she was fourteen weeks pregnant. The once-subtle signs were becoming clearer by the day, if one took a closer look and knew where to pay attention. Jaime had noticed the thickness in her hair, how it had acquired a shine that was almost as golden as his. Her harsh features had begun to soften. Brienne with her cropped hair and penchant for unisex clothes looked androgynous. Her hair had grown to a bob but she wore it brushed back. Yet the gentling of her face made it clear she was a woman in spite of her tailored shirts and slacks. 

Then her body. Gods. _Her body._ Jaime had started reading the books with her and was anticipating for when her food sensitivity and nausea eased and the sharp spike in sexual desire took over. They haven’t been fucking a lot; Oberyn’s ongoing hearing for tax evasion had taken priority over the divorce. He had also instructed the warden that he wouldn’t see Ned Stark or anyone associated with his wife during the trial. Jaime had to ask Tyrion for help once again to force Oberyn into a corner. He and Brienne had a plan and once again, Oberyn was making things difficult.

Gerion hounded them to help arrange a meeting with Tywin so he could apologize and beg for his shares back and then, the worry that Cersei would see through her threat. Jaime was both relieved and upset at Tywin agreeing for Jon to take his children north, but understood this was the best arrangement for now. 

Mostly, however, Jaime wouldn’t touch Brienne out of respect for the changes her body was going through and the Seven Hells she was experiencing as a consequence. He didn’t understand why it was called morning sickness when she was throwing up at random times during the day—and night. She was miserable and cranky and the few times he managed to tease her, she gave him a look that promised unholy physical pain if he persisted. 

As of last week, not only had her hearty appetite returned but so had her usual pleasant disposition and libido. Twice she woke up Jaime with her lips around his cock and sucking him hungrily. Then today, she had practically mauled him from the door and fucked him like a boss. Yeah. He could live like that. 

He kissed the freckles splashed across her throat, down her collarbones, nipped her right shoulder. Brienne was pale and heavily freckled but Jaime felt a new suppleness in her skin, and how it had acquired a kind of glow. Her breasts, though still small, were no longer mere buds but soft mounds that swung gently and jiggled with every step. His tongue tasted an engorged nipple, wetting the stiff nub. She cupped his head, moaning. Her sensitivity in her breasts had increased but she assured Jaime she loved it when he sucked really hard. 

His hands and lips spanned her waist, less straight and boyish now due to the growing roundness there. Brienne complained that some of her pants were getting tight but was loathed to shop because it was only temporary. Jaime lovingly kissed and licked the dark pink welt left by her underwear before his lips circled the bump of her stomach. They had taken to calling their child “little one.” 

Brienne’s stomach had become his favourite body part when before he liked all her parts. There were more freckles and the skin was so unbelievably soft despite how firm it was underneath. Jaime knew that Brienne still worried about another miscarriage and he couldn’t blame her. He was scared too. He pointed out that unlike before when it was entirely up to her to take care of the little one, she had him to share it with. The subtext wasn’t lost on Brienne. 

He kept kissing her stomach and murmuring her name until she urged him lower. He smirked up at her. 

Pregnancy had brought some boldness to Brienne and it turned his head. He obliged with licks and kisses up and around her cunt, feeling it get wet and sticky. He smiled against the curls as his head moved lower for his lips to trail down her endless right leg then up the glorious climb of her left. She was ticklish and sensitive behind the knee here and he delighted in kissing her thus, chuckling as she howled with laughter. Truth be told, her laugh was grunting and horsey but it was a happy sound. It also did things to his insides and knees that made him grateful he wasn’t standing up. Her sounds of mirth softened to sexy little moans as he returned his lips to the heat between her thighs. 

“Touch me,” he begged her so she returned her hands on him, caressing his back, trailing down his hairy arms before settling on his head. Even her innocent, mindless touching could undo him so he repaid the favour by thumbing her open and devouring her clit.

Her hold on his hairs was becoming painful but he was lost in the heaven between her thighs, surrounded by the thick, musky perfume of her arousal with the notes of her recent release. She was so wet his tongue discovered a little sticky pool between her clit and entrance.

He lapped up her folds, his eyes dark and a savage green as they watched her thrust her hips, keen and bite her swollen, thick lips. She looked so powerful and breath-taking as she surrendered to the spell his kisses and hands were spinning. Jaime wished he wasn’t so wrung out from their earlier fucking but tasting her and seeing her so delirious from his kisses was more than worth it. His fingers inside her slick cunt caused her eyes to widen.

As her orgasm approached, her thrusts became sharper and erratic, her mouth opening and closing like landed fish gasping for air. Jaime had to look away and concentrate on the wet flesh and soaked curls under his mouth because it was too much. He was getting harder, harder, but he wanted her this way right now. He looked back on her just in time to see the orgasm punch through her strong body, seizing, yanking her spine in a sharp arch, her thighs trembling and straining under him before she fell back on the floor, flushed and looking drunk. She shot Jaime a sleepy smile. 

He wiped the back of his hand across his lips and asked, arrogantly, “Good, wench?”

“You,” she said breathily, “have a very talented tongue.”

Grinning, he rose over her so he could whisper in her ear what else he could do to her with his tongue. He felt her blush, felt the ripple across her skin. When he lay back with his fist propping up his chin, she blinked at him owlishly.

“People actually do that?” She managed to demand. There was a conflict between curiosity and disbelief on her face. It gave Jaime a secret thrill knowing there was still some part of her that would be touched only by him, this way, for the first time. 

“Yes. I like doing it. I haven’t done it to you because I didn’t know if you’d be alright with it.” He brushed his knuckles against her hard nipples before lowering to her stomach. “So you’d want me to do it to you?” He slapped her bottom lightly.

At that, her entire face and neck exploded scarlet. “Well, not now! You’ve just killed me!” She frowned at his laugh and he kissed her on the shoulder before biting and sucking the firm muscle. When he released her skin with a pop, he grinned at the red-purple mark there. There were two on her breasts, more on her stomach and around her hips and thighs. 

“Brienne, you fucking have no idea just how adorable I find you, do you?”

“`Adorable’ isn’t something that I’m used to hearing about myself. I seem to recall that you used to call me`a giant, tow-headed plank.’”

“You _are_ a giant, tow-headed plank. Doesn’t mean I don’t like it.” 

Her eyes twinkled. “And that I’m a great beast of a woman.”

“A euphemism for how sexy I find you.” He winked devilishly then cast a leer down her legs, enjoying her face flaring hotter. “Long legs like that, with calves like that. Positively beastly, wench. Your eyes should be illegal and don’t get me started on that mouth of yours.”

“Jaime,” she marveled mockingly, “that’s the first time I heard you use words with more than two syllables.” 

He rolled his eyes and pinched her playfully on the ass. “Fuck you.” Then he dragged her so she was half on top of him, careful that she didn’t put any weight on her belly. When she reached up to cup his face, the light bounced off the princess-cut sapphire ring she was wearing.

Over Brienne’s protests, Jaime had formally proposed to her (“Our children would rather hear that I proposed properly on one knee instead of in bed,” was his justification, grinning as her face reddened at the prospect of more children) over dinner, on one knee, and with a ring whose jewel was the closest to the colour of her eyes. It was audacious and very, very improper, not to mention possibly provoking Oberyn Martell should he see the ring but Jaime needed something that told the world Brienne was his. If it made him an idiot, possessive lout, he didn’t care. 

Though touched by the gesture, Brienne did say she was going to wear it on her right hand instead, for the time being. Jaime let her—the point was, there was something of him on her. He pointed out that he couldn’t have her going around in midriffs just so the world would know she was carrying his child. He also mentioned that a tattoo, though also something he wouldn’t be opposed to, would mar her beautiful, freckled skin. Brienne smacked him on the head for the crack about the tattoo.

Jaime kissed her palm before pulling it toward his face. She watched him kiss her fingers reverently.

“Do you think about the time when everything we’re going through is behind us?” She asked suddenly.

Jaime nodded and held her hand. “All the time.”

It was clearly unexpected because she started and murmured, “Really.”

He sat up, taking her with him. He leaned against the sofa while Brienne folded her knees to rest her chin on them.

Playing with her hair, he asked, “Don’t you?”

She bit her lip and seemed torn about something before saying, “I’m still afraid.”

“I can understand that. Nothing is really certain,” Jaime told her. “Except, of course, how much I love you.”

“That’s unfair. I love you too.” 

He kissed her full on the mouth but said gently, “That may be why you’re still afraid.”

She considered that, chewing her bottom lip once again before asking hesitantly, “Aren’t you?”

“I’d rather I’m the only one afraid for both of us, Brienne.” He admitted, running a finger down the graceful slope of her freckled spine. “I don’t want you worrying any more than need be. I don’t want you worried at all.”

“Always protecting me,” she admonished him gently, rolling her eyes. “I won’t break, you know.”

“I’d rather not see you test it out. Have I told you that that ancient sigil of my house is a lion?”

“Yeah. And your words.”

“Lannisters have always been proud, arrogant assholes.” He grinned at her giggling over his frank description of his family. “But we’re mighty protective of the ones we love. When they're hurt, we ensure that the one responsible pays.”

“I’m not sure I’m entirely comfortable with revenge,” Brienne said slowly. “But I can understand. I would exact blood from anyone that hurts the people I love.” As she spoke, Jaime’s hand drifted to her side and she gave him a significant look.

“At least, I’d like to think that. I’m too much of a pacifist. I’m okay with being hurt as long as it’s not anyone else. And I’d stop it at that because it’s done. Otherwise it’s just an endless cycle of revenge.”

“Well, that’s why you have to strike right. End it once and for all.” Jaime saw her shivering from her drying sweat so he pulled his shirt from under his ass and gave it to her. He was charmed with how she kept her legs pressed to her chest given that he’d been kissing her tits mere minutes ago. That he’d touched and kissed her everywhere many times over. Her unerring grip on modesty was one of the things that drove him completely crazy over her. It was so fucking refreshing. Brienne would demand him to fuck her, she’d fuck him against the bookcase, on the floor, but afterward, she blushed and was as skittish and shy as a maiden. She slipped her arms through the sleeves, buttoned up. 

Jaime tugged on his boxers and wrenched the short, square blanket resting on top of the sofa. The carpet was getting uncomfortable so he suggested they continue to lie down on the sofa. Brienne stretched on it first then he followed, draping the blanket over them. 

The sofa was no longer corduroy because they had changed it for something bigger and wider. Still, as it was, with them on it, they just about fit. Pulling it out would be better but Jaime liked to keep her pressed against him. And when she flung her leg over his knees, to her it was probably nothing but for Jaime, much more. It was a big deal for Brienne to be comfortable with him like that. 

“What are you afraid of, wench?”

“Many things. But you’re here. So not as many.” It may sound corny but from Brienne, the words were sincere.

“How afraid are you of the future?” Since knowing her, Jaime learned patience in getting her to talk. Rarely did she open up as she was doing now. 

Mulling over his question thoughtfully, he went on, “ Did you once imagine that we’d be where we are at this moment at some point? Because I certainly hoped for this.”

“Not this soon.” She admitted. “Not so fast.”

Jaime kissed her on the forehead. “Wench, a ring on the finger doesn’t mean we’re getting married as soon as you’re divorced. Well, I’d like that but I understand if you want more time. Don’t let me push you. I just wanted to put a ring on you because I’m a bastard who wants the world to know you’re hands off to all men.”

“You know what’s ridiculous about what you just said?” She said, scowling.

“What?”

“That you think every man thinks like you do when it comes to me. We both know what I look like, Jaime. I’m hardly for dreams.”

“If you must know, I’ve been having quite a lot of wet dreams lately and they all star you. Really! I’m not fucking with you, wench,” he said as she blushed and muttered something unintelligible. “I love it when you show off your legs but I admit that your preference for pants give me a great deal of peace of mind. You can not possibly imagine where my thoughts go when I see your legs. But believe me, wench, if I think it about you, there’s also another man thinking exactly that. Your butt also looks damned delectable in pants.”

He thought it wise to shut up that she didn’t find his wanting to marry her soon after the divorce as ridiculous. Brienne needed to breathe. He could give her that. 

She was still shaking her head, doubtful as always. “I did think about children with you early on.”

“Yeah? How early?” Gods, but that was good to hear. 

She blushed. “After the first time. The first few times.”  
She bowed her head. “If you remember, we were fucking without protection.”

He did. He always kept a condom in his wallet but always forgot as soon as her lips were on his. 

“I wasn’t horrified at the thought of children with you at all. It felt right, even back then.” She sounded surprised, as if having realized this just now. “I thought I was just crazy with how much I wanted you.” Jaime smiled at that. “But I didn’t know how far we would go, I was still so very afraid of truly loving you. But I knew I couldn’t risk Oberyn getting me pregnant. A child with him meant the end of us. I was that selfish to deny him so I wouldn’t lose you.”

To Brienne, she thought it selfish and cruel. For Jaime, he heard her selflessness. Of once again choosing him. His heart lurched at that. His eyes fell on her stomach, where it rested against his. 

“So you weren’t trying. . .after you lost your first?”Jaime felt he had to tiptoe around the subject. Brienne didn’t like talking about it.

“We tried for a while but I was out of sorts. Then Dad got sick and we were always fighting about having him move in with us. Or Oberyn and I were fighting because Dad and I were fighting. Then he died and I just. . .I just couldn’t anymore. I should have been relieved because Dad wouldn’t hurt anymore but his death showed me things about my marriage I denied for a long time.” She snuggled closer to him, a kitten in need of comforting. He held her and rested his chin on top of her head, kissing her sweat-damp hair.

“How glad I am, Jaime, that you wanted me too, that night. I was terrified I’d lose you. What if you’d changed your mind about me since that night in Tarth? I had so little hope. There was a good chance of losing you but I gambled anyway.” She looked at him, her eyes searching. “That’s the first time I did that.”

He brushed his thumb on her edge of her pale brow. “Not even with Oberyn?”

She shook her head. “If you call agreeing to go out with the first boy who ever showed actual interest in me a gamble. Every girl goes through that. He told me he loved me early on. I didn’t. . .not for a few months.”

Jaime hated the guy but he could just imagine the hell he must have gone through waiting and waiting for Brienne to say those words back. His wench had an untapped cruel streak and he hoped never to be at the receiving end of that. He knew it wasn’t intentional. As honest as Brienne was, she was uneasy about having to bare her heart and soul. She told Jaime she knew of pain longer about love and while it hardened her to an extent, it made her vulnerable too. He was just thankful that Oberyn didn’t seem to be a little shit in the beginning. 

“When I finally told him I loved him, I already knew how he felt,” she continued. “I mean I was still afraid because I still thought he was probably joking but it wasn’t as much as a gamble of going to you that night. And you looked so angry.”

“You were barefoot,” he reminded her. “And you walked in the city in the middle of the night. It was dangerous.”

“Whatever, Jaime. I wasn’t in danger. I was only in danger of rejection. From you.” 

He shook his head. “Tyrion knew. Also Bronn.”

She frowned. “About what?”

“They knew we’d end up together early on. They knew it from the time I just packed off for Tarth because you asked me. I thought they were stupid fucks but I didn’t prove them wrong that night, did I?”

“You didn’t. I did.” She smirked.

“And you were right to. I think we just delayed the inevitable but if we didn’t, who knows if we’d end up being friends? I don’t know if I loved or trusted you first. I suppose with us, they go hand in hand. But outside of Tyrion and Bronn, you’re the only one I’ve come to trust. Just like that.”

She kissed his throat. “Thank you for trusting me.” The solemnity in her eyes said she would never take this for granted.

“Always.” 

“I love you, Jaime.” 

He grinned and joked, “Does that mean you’ll serve me cheesecake so I don’t have to leave this very comfortable couch?”  
“I seem to have lost my legs for the moment given that a very naughty man just did something extremely naughty,” she retorted. “I’ll have to crawl to serve you, ser.”

“I can carry you.” Jaime said, sitting up and taking her with him. The blanket slipped from them. 

“What? Jaime? I’m heavy. I’m heavier!” She protested as he pulled her to stand up with him. “I’m also cold,” she added with a pout. 

So Jaime took the blanket, snapping it straight before wrapping it around her broad shoulders. It was Brienne's, something she'd had as a child.He saw for the first time the blanket’s design.

It had only one design: a quartered field of royal blue and pale yellow, each alternately occupied by golden suns and white crescent moons, with a roaring lion at its centre. Noticing his lingering look, she explained, “Dad said my Mum knitted it for me before I was born. She wanted me to use it when I was older.” She bit her lip. “I found it in the closet back in Tarth after she died. I suppose she forgot about it.” 

That explained the size. It only covered Brienne up to her knees. But she looked. . .picturesque, yes, that was the word. She looked picturesque in it with her pale hair, clear, sapphire eyes and pink cheeks. 

“It suits you,” Jaime said, clearing his throat. "Blue is a good colour on you. You have astonishing eyes."

It got her flushed again but she frowned.“Are you alright?” She asked, peering at him intently. “You went pale for a bit.” 

He must have a weird expression on his face because Brienne frowned a little and cupped his cheek. “Huh. You do need to be fed, Jaime. You look a little peaked. Maybe we should take it easy with, uh, you know, fucking.” She kissed him on the lips in comfort. “Sorry for fucking you first instead of feeding you, Jaime. And you are not carrying me.”

He managed to smile. His knees were wobbly, by the gods. “Never apologize for that, wench.” 

She grinned and clutched the blanket before turning away and heading to the kitchen. Jaime watched her walk away.

"Brienne?" He asked as she removed the baked goods from the bag. She was humming a random tune. She got like that when about to eat her favorite foods, he realized as she flipped open the box holding the cheesecake.

"Yes?" She looked at him, licking a dollop of frosting from her.fingertip.

"You'll never have to gamble with me." He announced, his voice firm but his gaze loving. " I'm the sure thing."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tweaked the Tarth sigil of azure and rose quarters to blue and yellow (cough, contrived, cough). And instead of a giant sun in the middle, it's a lion (of course).
> 
> Damon. I want to smash my head for how contrived this chapter ended. I AM SO SORRY.


	5. Behind Closed Doors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Get read for a two-chapter update, everyone!

Every cell in Jaime’s body rebelled at being where it was. In an ideal world, Brienne was divorced, hells, they were married and in between bitching about their work, squabbled about the colour of the little one’s room. He would annoy her suggesting they name it after different kinds of pasta. _Ravioli. Capellini. Macaroni._

But wishing for things to ideal was futile and Jaime was a man who had learned to work with what he had. Or in this case, didn’t.

Jaime swept past the revolving glass doors of the Lannister headquarters. The lobby was bustling with people going in all directions, the din of their conversations rising above the bland, generic instrumental music playing from the speakers. Jaime shouldered his briefcase as he approached the front desk for a pass. 

He took the elevator, finding himself pressed against the wall and uncomfortably aware of other peoples’ scents and warmth. Slowly, they trickled down until he was left to ride the remaining floors by himself. When he reached the fifty-fifth floor, it was a different world altogether.

First was the definite drop in temperature. Jaime was wearing a tan sport jacket, a white shirt, plain crimson tie, faded jeans and leather mahogany brown loafers. Despite the layers of clothes, he shivered as he approached the glass doors from which two security guards in black suits stood. That was the second thing. Neither recognized him, not that he was expecting them to. He showed his pass to the one guarding the entrance, getting a nod and having the guy open the door for him.

Jaime hadn’t set foot in the executive floor for close to a decade. The design was different—it was more Lannister-style with the crimson and gold theme, along with the lion sigil on the wall. He was wondering if the guards would think him an idiot for not asking where his father’s office was when Missandei emerged from the corner and gave him a cool, professional smile.

“Mr. Lannister,” she said. “Your father told me to expect you. Follow me, please.”

In the lobby, it was all bustle and hustle but here was a deathly quiet. There were employees behind their desks tapping gently on their computers or talking in hushed tones over the phone. Seeing them, Jaime wondered if he could survive just working for a day here now. Back in Casterly Company, he interacted with Pia and Peck, clients and customers, not to mention the occasional travel. It was a nice balance of work and getting paid doing what you loved. 

Missandei knocked gently on the door ahead of them and opened it fully, announcing him. Jaime straightened up as she told him to come in. Once Jaime was inside, she turned around and left.

Tywin looked up from the laptop where he was typing. His office was dark with a crimson and gray theme, the bay windows heavily tinted so that the bright spring sunlight came off as overcast when viewed from here. His office was neat and kept in military order but there were folders and files stacked on a coffee table. His desk contained only the laptop and a pen holder. 

Jaime met his father’s store, seeing the disapproval with the way he was dressed. Tywin took pride in appearance. He went for weekly trims and got a professional shave, dressed only in finely-tailored suits and shirts, had his shoes made specifically to the arch and shape of his feet. Jaime didn’t know if Tywin resented his appearance generally or if it was because he bought clothes from stores.

“So. You’re really here. Have a seat.” Tywin said, gesturing at a chair.

Jaime nodded and sat down, setting his briefcase by his feet.

Since the night he told Tywin what had happened between him and Cersei, they had seen each other only one other time—when Brienne pushed him to invite his father for dinner. Jaime was loathed to do so because he knew how Tywin felt about her. Brienne, as usual, deemed this as insignificant, emphasizing that their fractured relationship could still be fixed and she wasn’t going to be the reason that it remained so. Tywin wasn’t expected to be free but he was.

It was an awkward dinner. Jaime realized that the times he and his father had a meal together were so rare he hardly remembered them. Neither man knew how to have a conversation with each other and Brienne, try as she did, couldn’t get them to talk longer than a few sentences. Then there was also how Tywin had an odd look in his face after glimpsing the ring on Brienne’s right hand—generally, how he was staring at Brienne. She was just a little over twelve weeks then, not yet showing except to Jaime. Her shirt was loose and to be polite, she had insisted on wearing a bra. Jaime wondered if Tywin thought she was pregnant. Tyrion assured him he never told.

“Thank you for seeing me, Father.”

“How are things with Brienne?” 

A little defensively, Jaime declared, “We’re still together.”

Tywin’s expression was bland. “That’s good.”

Jaime wrangled his mind for how to steer the conversation to his agenda. He decided to be direct about it.

“I need help.” He cleared his throat. “Your help.”

Tywin looked thoughtful. “That’s a little unexpected.”

“How do you mean?”

“I thought you’ve come to see me to say that Brienne is pregnant or something to that effect.”

Jaime held his breath. “Is it something that would bother you?”

“Not exactly.” Then Tywin game him a hard look. “She is, isn’t she?”

“How did you know?”

“I was always able to tell with Joanna,” Tywin replied, “before she realized it herself. Something about her scent. It reminded me of warm milk and berries. Brienne carried a similar scent. How far along is she?”

“A little over four months.” Jaime answered. “That’s why I’m here.”

“You need money for the baby?” This time Tywin was puzzled. “Forgive me, but I was under the impression that your, uh, your business is doing well?”

“In a way it’s for the baby.” Jaime told him. “But not really. It’s Brienne’s husband.”

Tywin leaned back. “Oberyn Martell.”

“He’s on trial for a tax evasion case. As of last week, I know he’s out on bail. He has refused to see Brienne’s lawyer or anyone associated with her. I need him to agree to the divorce before the little, I mean, our baby is born.”

“This divorce is taking unusually long especially for one party that wants nothing from the other,” Tywin mused. Jaime didn’t question anymore how he knew. His father had eyes and ears anywhere, when he wanted.

“You know what Oberyn Martell is capable of doing. We barely escaped it,” Jaime said, wincing. The Lannister PR machinery was as efficient as the most ruthless assassin unit. Googling anything about Tyrek and Selyne Umber’s incestuous roots either led to announcements that the news item no longer existed or simply unavailable. 

“On the day he was arrested, he threw another curveball. He’s demanding that Brienne turn over her childhood home in Tarth to him because, as he put it, he paid for its repairs and renovations. Money that he withdrew from their joint account.” Jaime continued. “We think we can pay him off, just, but to make him go away, we have to add more. Unfortunately, we, uh. . .we don’t have more.”

It made him sick. He had lied to Brienne about having the money to get rid of Oberyn. He had money. Just not a lot.

Jaime named the amount they would be needing. When Tywin’s face remained impassive, Jaime added quickly, “I hope you could lend us the money. We’ll pay it, I swear. But it’s going to take time.”

Tywin frowned and shifted in his seat. 

“If it helps, Brienne doesn’t know that I’m talking to you. She was going to borrow money from me,” Jaime added with a bitter chuckle. “I told her it was unnecessary and I was going to give it to her. I still am. But only if you could give me a loan.”

“A loan, you say,” Tywin remarked.

“Yes.”

“Hmm.”

“I know I have no right to ask given how I’ve acted in the past.” Jaime admitted. “For that, I am sorry.”

Tywin looked surprised. “What are you apologizing for?”

Jaime looked him in the eye. “For everything.”

The ice in Tywin’s eyes receded, his entire demeanor underwent a slow gentling that was a remarkable sight to see. For the first time in Jaime’s life, he saw his father both moved and disbelieving.

“You should not be asking forgiveness, Jaime. It should be me.” 

The he got up from his seat and walked around the desk so he could take the other chair and sit face to face with Jaime. 

“After your mother died, the best part of me went with her. She was the best part of me. That you looked so much like her reminded me all the more that she was truly gone. It was painful seeing Tyrion so sure and cocky—your mother did that. Lavished him with love when the rest of the family feared him for looking grotesque. Even I struggled at first until I saw how much Joanna loved him as if he were perfect. And he is. Both of you are. Just like she was.” Tywin gave a glimpse of a smile that Jaime had not seen since he was a boy, when life was uncomplicated. “I know I pushed my sons away. I did it so much that it became this thing, this. . our normalcy. And after finding out what happened to you, I wondered if my being a stronger presence would have prevented it. Protected you.”

“You had nothing to do with that, Father.” Jaime protested. 

“I know my sister quite well. She may not have the acumen for business but she has the smarts for separating the vulnerable from the herd. She’s always been manipulative. You many not blame me but I still am responsible. If I were around more, I would have seen things.. She wouldn’t have dared cross the line.”

“But. . .but I let her. I believed I loved her.”

Tywin looked pained. “How could you know any better?”

Jaime fell silent.

“And now, here we are. Picking up the pieces. Once again faced with an enemy.” Tywin looked at his hands then back at Jaime. “Do you love Brienne?”

“Yes. Without a doubt.”

“If she was not pregnant, if she got divorced easily, would you have at least come to me for help?”

“No.” Being honest would probably backfire but Jaime was not afraid to put it out there. Reckless as it was. 

“No,” Tywin echoed.

“Brienne came to care for me as the person I became when I separated from the family. She never cared about my being a Lannister or what possible riches I may have and I have told her nothing of the sort will be coming our way. She loves me for me. I’d be very different if things. . .remained as they are.” It was a bleak thought. Maybe he would still be in love with Cersei. Brienne not figuring in any way of that possibility made him uneasy. 

“I love her. That’s why I’m here, discarding all I’ve hated being a Lannister, my pride, what little principles I have. I would do everything in my power to ensure her happiness.”

 

After work, Brienne swung by the bakery and bought croissants and eclairs. She separated hers and Jaime’s share from Pia’s and Peck’s. Jaime’s employees smiled happily at the unexpected treats and Brienne continued her way to their apartment.

Jaime was away on a day trip to meet a client. She knew that after meetings like this, he liked to come home to a simple meal, preferably takeaway, and beer. Beer was banned because the smell drove her nuts. She put away the pastries then rifled through the fliers offering food deliveries. All looked good. Chinese. Korean. Indian. Lyseni. Pentoshi. Hmm. Brienne rubbed her stomach as she played with the idea of a smorgasbord of shrimp Pad Thai, spicy Pentoshi beef with peanut sauce and vegetable curry.   
“Would you like that, little one?” Brienne asked her stomach, fanning out the fliers on the counter. “But we have to get something for your Dad too. I’m afraid he’s a little delicate with spices.” It made her tingle referring to Jaime as the Dad. Well, he was. _In every way that matters._

Brienne had just decided to throw in a pizza with their huge dinner order when the buzzer rang. She got up and headed for the door to press the buzzer. “Who is it?”

“It’s Jon Umber. Is Jaime there?”

Her heart slammed against her chest. “Uh, he’s not home yet. Would you. . .would you like to come up?” 

“Hold on.”

She heard Jon talking to somebody then he spoke. “I have Selyne with me.” Then he added. “Do you know my daughter?”

“Yes. I’ll just. . .” Brienne pressed the button that unlocked the door. “It’s open.” 

“Thank you. Who are you, by the way?”

“I’m Brienne. I’m Jaime’s fiancée.”

“Dad, maybe we shouldn’t—“ came Selyne’s voice.

“We’re here, sweetheart. But it’s all up to you.”

Brienne strained to hear but couldn’t make out anything. The next thing she knew, there was a knock on the door. She took a deep breath and opened it.

A man, much taller and broader than her, with dark hair with hints of auburn, thick eyebrows and round, dark eyes stared back at her. He was not handsome but he radiated with power and strength. Beside him stood a teenaged girl. She was tall for her age but looked delicate, almost broken. The golden sheen of her blond hair and bright emerald eyes told Brienne without a doubt that she was Cersei’s daughter. 

“Come in.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is a little disconcerting that Tywin doesn't hate Tyrion in this modern AU. I hope that's okay.


	6. Don't Let Go

Brienne’s heart rate only slowed down when Jaime arrived. As relieved as she was that he was finally home, she was sorry for the smile that dropped from his face the moment he saw Jon and Selyne in his living room. His face hardened instantly and she went to him. 

Normally, he welcomed her with open arms but he was stiff and didn’t seem to notice her as she approached, his attention on the two other people in his home. Hers arms wrapping around his shoulders didn’t have him hugging her back immediately until she spoke his name in his ear. Snapping out of the daze, his embrace was fierce and desperate.

“It’s okay, Jaime,” she whispered in his ear again. She kissed his neck. “I love you.”

She pulled away to look at him. His face was inscrutable and that worried her. She took his hand and glanced at Jon and Selyne.

Jon and Selyne had risen from the couch. Selyne had her hand wrapped around her father’s elbow, which he was patting reassuringly. 

“Sorry to drop in without announcement,” Jon spoke up. “But. . .I don’t believe a phone call would suffice with what we have to tell you.”

“It’s my fiancée you owe an apology to,” Jaime replied. “As you can see, she’s pregnant. Doesn’t make her weak but I’d like her to be careful.”

“I’m okay, Jaime.” Brienne assured him. 

For the first time since arriving, he looked at her. There it was. The waver in his gaze that betrayed his fear and worry. His hand climbed to her cheek and she held it there, nodding. 

She had been a nervous wreck from the moment the Umbers arrived. Though Jon assured her they needed no entertaining, Brienne still scrambled to at least serve them drinks and a bowl of potato chips—Selyne looked hungry. As her guests nibbled on them, she set about making peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. There was leftover lasagna in the fridge, just enough for all of them, including Jaime, as long as nobody had seconds. 

When the sandwiches were done, Brienne had joined them in the living room. Despite the sternness of his expression, Jon’s eyes were kind and Selyne gave her a small smile of appreciation. Brienne knew next to nothing about either of them except for what Jaime had told her. That meant she couldn’t ask about how Cersei was doing.

It was Jon who broke the ice by asking how long she had been pregnant and the sex of the baby. This, they could talk about and Brienne clung to it like a lifeline. She almost wept with relief when the door opened an hour later and Jaime slipped inside.

“Forgive us,” Jon told Brienne. “You’ve been more than kind, Brienne.” 

“There’s nothing to forgive.”

Jaime, his hand clammy and tight in Brienne’s hold, strode forward, taking her with him. “I think we all know why you’re here.” He looked at Selyne. “How did you know?”

Selyne eyes went to Brienne before looking at her father. 

“She knows,” Jaime told them. “She’s known about Cersei and I from the very beginning.”

“You knew about my children?” Jon demanded, misunderstanding.

“No, that’s not what Jaime meant,” Brienne said quickly. “Maybe you should all sit down for this. You have a lot to talk about.”

Jaime shook his head. “Please. Brienne, stay with me?”

Brienne this time glanced at Jon and Selyne. Selyne nodded. “I can’t do this without my Dad.”

Nobody missed the sudden gleam in Jon’s eyes at what she called him. 

So they all sat down. Jaime rested his elbows on his knees, still holding Brienne’s hand. He was nervous. Aside from his girp that was slowly numbing her hand, his breath was beginning to hitch. Brienne kissed him on the cheek and he sighed deeply. 

Selyne took a deep breath then looked at her father again. They too were holding hands. She was a beautiful girl, Brienne noted, and bound to just get more so through the years. Though she looked like a younger version of Cersei, there was something markedly different about her. 

The eyes, Brienne realized. Cersei’s were hard and calculating though yes, beautiful. Selyne’s were softer and though there was nothing of her father in her, they mirrored the kindness found in his gaze.

“Maybe you should know what happened about your mother and I first,” Jaime began. Brienne wondered if he also noticed it. “It’s not the easiest thing to talk about, and I think even harder to know. But I think we have to be honest with each other. If you managed to get here without screaming your head off about. . .who your parents really are, I would like to believe you’re just as strong when you find out something truly unpleasant.”

So Jaime told them. About having lost his mother the summer he was fifteen and the beginning of the affair. Selyne looked ill and horrified at the same time, while Jon looked angry. Whatever lingering civil thoughts he had about his ex-wife, done so for their children’s sake, they were gone, Brienne saw. 

She had heard it all before but it was still hard—not that Jaime was in love with the wrong woman for years but because of what had been done to him. It wasn’t even the sex, it was Cersei’s skillful manipulation that perverted Jaime’s knowledge about love. The most difficult in the account was hearing all over again that Jaime tried to kill himself once, too heartbroken to move on after Cersei’s betrayal. Of all the crimes Cersei had committed, this was probably the worst. 

Cersei had almost succeeded in letting Jaime die thinking he would never live, nor love, again. Brienne hoped for the other woman’s sake that their paths did not cross. She was pregnant but if she had to, she would kill his aunt with her bare hands.

“Now,” Jaime said. His voice was strained and Brienne offered him a sip from her glass. He looked at the Umbers. “Are you ready to tell us how you knew?”

Selyne nodded, though she was clearly nervous. 

“I found out about. . .the gossip, then, when my friends tagged me on an item on Facebook. I read it, Googled it, and it was all over. I went to Tyrek—he had been reading the news too. Mom was out so we called her to ask that she come home right away.” Selyne sighed. “By then she also knew and she was. . .she was hysterical. She yelled at us for reading filth, she threw Tyrek’s laptop. I tried to ask her to. . to calm down. I asked her if it was true and she was going to slap me but Tyrek got between us. He was hurt and I was scared of Mom.”

Brienne knew the rest. Of brother and sister going to Casterly Company then disappearing for a few hours. They were found in the family’s lakeside getaway, starving and cold because they only had enough money to get on the bus and neither knew how get the heater working. Tywin and Jon had acted swiftly, making it impossible for Cersei to have any contact with her children unless she wanted a lawsuit.

Cersei had not been the week following her scandalous exit from Tywin’s offices. Brienne knew she had sold her townhouse, the only piece of real estate she truly owned. None of the Lannisters were concerned and she felt a little sorry for the woman. Tyrek returned to school but was undergoing therapy to help him deal. Jon pulled Selyne out of school and took her with him to Last Hearth. She was having therapy too.

Brienne understood why Jaime preferred Selyne close. Not because, at the time, she may be his daughter, but because he believed that taking her away from everything familiar would be too much already. In the event that Jon disavowed all parental rights, Jaime and Brienne were ready to offer them a home. 

Tywin may have contributed taking such control of Cersei’s life with regard to her marriages after Ramsay Bolton but he seemed to have made a good choice in Jon Umber. Cersei’s betrayal was painful but he loved the childrent, they were his children as far as he was concerned. Thanks to Tywin’s fast thinking once again, the public will never know that for once, gossip was true.

“When we got home,” Selyne was saying, “Dad and I had a talk. He assured me he loved me and nothing was going to change that. But he said that if I wanted to know the truth, then he would help me. I didn’t want to know,” she told Jaime. “I mean, you’re my cousin. I know you as my cousin. But when Dad told me. . .and he didn’t force me. I was terrified but if I didn’t do anything then it’s gonna haunt me for the rest of my life.” 

Another look was shared between father and daughter. Jon patted her hand and took over. 

“Cersei told them that night that Tyrek’s father was Gerion. Selyne talked to Tyrek and he agreed to give a sample of DNA for comparison.” Jon said. “They don’t have the same father.”

Brienne swore to the gods she heard Jaime’s heart stop beating. 

“We’re not here to ask that you provide a sample, Jaime. But if you want to, then we’ll compare it, but I think we can say we know what the results will be.” 

“I’m so sorry,” Selyne apologized, a sob breaking out of her. Her eyes fell on Brienne’s belly before looking at her face. “Please don’t hate me.”

“I don’t hate you,” Brienne told her, moved that this young girl could be capable of humility and maturity. Definitely not her mother’s daughter. “Selyne, none of this is your doing. It’s no one’s fault.” This she told Jaime, pulling his hand to her lips to kiss it. They stared hard at each other, her gaze imploring him to believe her. 

“Thanks, Brienne. That means a lot. More than you can imagine.” Selyne took the handkerchief Jon offered her. Dabbing at her tears, she asked Jaime, “Do you hate me?”

“Of course not.” Jaime told her. He cleared his throat. “Selyne, I know this is not a situation anyone of us in this room wants to be in, but that’s what happened. I’ll never be sorry for having you.” Brienne felt proud at Jaime for saying that, and Selyne looked grateful. “But I am sorry that this is what we have. You deserve better.”

“This is so wild,” Selyne admitted. “I mean, you’re my cousin. And it turns out you’re. . .my father.”

Jaime caught Jon’ eye when spoke. “Only if you want me to be.”

“What do you mean?”

“All your life you’ve known me as someone else. Now you have this knowledge and maybe in time, it’s something that will become a part of you. I want you to know that nothing has to change. If you want me in your life, I’m there. If this is the last time I see you, hard as it is, then alright. The point I’m trying to get across in a really shitty way, Selyne, is it’s all up to you. You have a wonderful father, a truer father than I can ever be even when it’s my blood in you. But if you need me my help for anything, if you need me to be still the cousin you’ve always known, then we’re doing it.”

Jaime’s voice was gentle as he added, “What matters is what you want.”

This time, Selyne burst into tears. She collapsed in her father’s arms, burying her crying face in his chest. Brienne was a little teary too. Jaime sniffled and she reached over to thumb away the tears at the corners of his eyes.

“You mean—you mean if I say I still want to live with my father, in Last Hearth, you’ll let me? Or if I say I want to live with you, you’ll let me?” Selyne asked.

“You’re my daughter,” Jaime’s voice shook. “Your happiness is what matters.”

It appeared this was the end, the last page of a tumultuous read. But Brienne knew Jaime. 

Minutes after they saw Jon and Selyne out, she turned to him. Her eyes were big and blue, searching. She touched Jaime on the cheek and he leaned into it as if it had been so long since his last physical contact. 

Then it happened. His face crumpled, a rough, difficult sob torn out of his throat followed. He continued clutching her hand to his face even as he slowly folded to the floor, until he was on his knees. Brienne bit her lip, crying for him too. His arms went around her waist and there, his face buried against her belly, he cried. Hot tears wet the lower part of her sweater. She ruffled his hair, touched his back before she too slid to her knees in front of him. Her chin wobbled as she fought to contain her sobs but failed.

“Don’t you apologize, Jaime Lannister,” she suddenly growled, wiping the back of her hand across her eyes. “I love you. I love you and all you’ve done and what you’ve become. Nothing is changing that. Do you hear me? I love you. _I love you.”_

“Don’t leave me, Brienne,” he begged, reaching for her. She reached for him too. They fisted each other’s clothes as they kissed, tasting each other’s tears. “Please, don’t.”

_“Didn’t you hear me? I love you.”_

She sobbed against his mouth, sucked the salt of his tears from his lips and swallowed them. Then Jaime was grabbing her, holding her hard to his chest that she could feel the ridges of his muscles and bones digging into her. She embraced him as fiercely.

And then—

Jaime gasped. “What—did you—Brienne—“

She held her breath, thinking it couldn’t be. “Hush.”

But there it was again. A definite, firm smack from inside her. 

Confused, she pushed him away and stared wide-eyed at her stomach. “What—“

Jaime placed a hand on her belly. There it was. “What’s happening?” He was scared.

Her frantic heartbeat stuttered her breath. Something was happening in her stomach. To her baby. _Their little one._ She couldn’t describe it. It tingled like butterflies, seemed to rollercoaster and kick her all at once. It was unlike anything she had ever felt, this series of sudden, sharp motions. 

_Kicking. . ._

Jaime’s hand was still on her belly and he looked more frightened with each passing second. 

Brienne let out a cry and put her hand over his.

“The baby,” she breathed.

"Is it okay?" Jaime squeaked. "Wench, do we need to go to the hospital?"

Through her tears, she let out a laugh. "Jaime, our little one is moving!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that's it, two chapters for today! 
> 
> Please tell me what you think. Thank you for reading!


	7. Come Together

Sources informed Ned Stark that Arthur Dayne was in court for a different case. This was the first opportunity he could get to Oberyn Martell so Ned, despite being senior partner at the firm, staked out the courthouse.

His efforts were repaid shortly. Arthur Dayne’s tall, broad form stood head and shoulders above nearly everyone else in the hallway. Ned took advantage of this by tailing after him a good distance away, lost in the sea of black and gray suits milling about. When the crowd began to thin out, he pounced by putting a hand on the other lawyer’s shoulder.

Arthur was displeased. “What the fuck, Stark.”

Ned smirked and slapped several sheets of paper on his chest. “Here you are. A settlement that my client is ready to make with your client. He’s in a tight spot. He could definitely use some money,” he added, nodding briefly at the papers. 

Still frowning, Arthur snatched the papers and skimmed right to the amount. He chuckled. “This is not nearly enough.”

“Fuck me hard in the ass, Dayne. Brienne is prepared to offer Oberyn the amount he spent on her house plus fifty percent to sweeten the deal. Your client owes the government five million. That amount should take care round a fifth of the problem.”

“He’s not going to take it.”

“I’d rather he tells me himself.”

“I’m telling you he’ll tell me no.” Arthur attempted to put the papers back in Ned’s hand but he smoothly moved away. 

“No doubt this divorce is making you look bad, Dayne. Imagine, the primo divorce lawyer of Westeros, can’t get rid of this one little case. My client’s made it easy for you. Your client is putting you in the bad light. If you can’t get him to make the deal, it’s going to get worse.”

Arthur laughed. “Really. Stark, Oberyn and I know for sure the truth about Cersei. Tywin Lannister did some really effective damage control but what’s to stop us from putting out actual evidence?”

Ned was a master poker player because he knew how to read faces. He called the man’s bluff.

“Evidence, really? What, a receipt to some motel from a few years ago? Cersei Lannister’s spread her legs for every person with a cock in Westeros. That doesn’t prove the incest. I heard you were among the privileged.” He grinned darkly. “Or cursed. Or is it photos? Or how her children look nothing like Jon Umber? Take a look at all Lannisters, Dayne. Even when they married redheads or brunettes, the children are always blond. Does this mean they’ve been fucking each other all this time?”

As Arthur glared at him, Ned continued, “Show that to Oberyn Martell. Get him to agree. Lawyer to lawyer, your name is fucked in the street because of this ongoing divorce. You really can not afford another case that will make you look bad.”

“I have a duty to my client.”

“True. But how much longer can you put in the hours, Dayne? Martell’s finances are tied up pending the investigation, the man is on house arrest with a security ankle bracelet. You went from Arthur Dayne causing a huge dent in Rhaegar Targaryen’s fortune and Jon Umber’s to Arthur Dayne, lawyer of some nobody named Oberyn Fucking Martell. That’s more than enough money the bastard deserves. My client is ready to fight. She will draw blood.” Ned’s gray eyes hardened, all irony and amusement gone. “And I will help her drain you.” 

“Fighting words. We both know that will never happen.” 

“So you say,” Ned said innocently before he glanced past Arthur’s shoulder and nodded. Arthur turned around and saw Tyrion Lannister approaching them.

“Greetings, fellow lawyers. And Arthur.” Tyrion grinned, pulling out a piece of paper from inside his suit jacket. “I have something for you. Think of it as a challenge.” 

Arthur took the paper and read its contents. Tyrion’s face was smug as the other lawyer glared back at him.

“You’re hitting my client with a defamation suit?” He growled.

Tyrion glanced at Ned, who was standing behind Arthur. He nodded discreetly.

“I believe we can come to an arrangement, Mr. Dayne, as long as your client acquires some sense. I would really rather not deal with anyone with screws loose.”

 

Oberyn answered the door on the third knock. Dressed in a black sweater and gray slacks, he looked like a typical suburban resident as long as one didn’t take a good look at the bulge around his left ankle. His smile was cool and friendly but Arthur shot him a look and swept past him.

“Nice to see you,” Oberyn said, shutting the door. He shot a hateful look at the squad car parked across the street. “So. When are they leaving.”

“Something just happened to make your current problem about taxes the least of your worries.” Arthur snapped, putting his briefcase on the coffee table. Catching Oberyn rolling his eyes, he snarled, “Sit the fuck down, Martell. You’ll be grateful later.”

“It’s good you’re here.” Oberyn drawled, taking his time. Arthur heard him take something from a drawer but he was too busy getting the papers just given to him in order. 

When Oberyn joined him, he was holding a large envelope. “My man on the street has been keeping an eye on my wife. He took a lot of very interesting photos.” He pulled out the contents and handed them to him. “Take a look.”

In spite of the voice in his head telling him no, Arthur looked at the photos. 

“Someone removed the bugs from Lannister’s store and apartment so we lost that,” Oberyn said, his dark eyes alert as his lawyer flicked through the photos. “I’m having my wife tailed as we speak. Curious how she looks now, doesn’t it?”

“So she’s pregnant.” Arthur put away the photos with a sigh. “Oberyn, we have bigger problems—“

“Does she look like someone who just got pregnant recently?” Oberyn demanded, all nonchalance gone.

Arthur had to admit that Brienne looked like she had been on the family way for some time. “Your wife is no delicate lilly. Who knows, she might be pregnant with twins or triplets, looking at her size.”

“That’s my child. That’s _my_ child and she’s screwing me over by not telling me about it!”

“We don’t have time to play ‘Who’s Your Daddy,’” Arthur snapped. “I met with Ned Stark and Tyrion Lannister today.”

“I know who Ned Stark is. Why the fuck should I know about this Tyrion Lannister?”

Arthur handed him the papers. “You demanded that Brienne turn over her family home in Tarth to you as compensation in the divorce you’ll be granting her. She’s decided to propose a settlement. The amount there is more than you spent on the house repairs. My advice is you take it so we can focus on the government case against you.”

“I missed a few payments, could have been more careful,” Oberyn said, yawning.

“Take the fucking deal, Martell. This is where Tyrion Lannister comes in. Tyrion is Jaime’s brother and one of the most feared lawyers in Westeros. He’s teamed with Stark. If you don’t take Brienne’s proposal, the Lannisters will hit you with a defamation suit.” 

That got Oberyn’s attention. He looked at Arthur.

“I warned you this might happen. Petyr Baelish is nothing more than another spurned ex of that woman. Even if we had evidence, what would it bring? Get your wife back? Even if Brienne is pregnant with your child, she clearly doesn’t want to have anything to do with you. She’s been clear about that from the very beginning, Oberyn.” Arthur stared at him grimly. “Take the deal. At least you can use the money to pay what you owe and I can convince the judge to give you a reduced sentence.” 

For one moment, Arthur thought he had swayed his client.

Then Oberyn’s jaw set in a hard, stubborn line.

“No.”

“Didn’t you hear me? If you don’t agree to the settlement, you’re facing a serious defamation charge. These are Lannisters, Oberyn. Your parents read you fairy tales as a child. These people were taught to destroy their enemies from the cradle. Need I remind you what they did with the Casterlys? The Tarbecks? The Reynes? Fuck, people are still talking about the child labour in their factories. Tywin Lannister did that. You don’t know Tyrion but I do. He’s exactly his father’s son.”

“You want me to be scared of, what, fat entrepreneurs, CEOs? That’s the world I live in. Minus the excess poundage of course. Image is everything to these assholes. Their stocks took a hit because of that news. North Umber Oil too. I am not afraid.” Oberyn declared firmly. “Let them come.”

“You are insane. If you keep this up, I will have to resign as your lawyer.”

Now that got Oberyn’s attention.

“I have done everything in my power to give you the right advice. Good advice. You wouldn’t listen to me. I have my reputation to think about. If you won’t take Brienne’s deal, then I’m walking out of the door as your former lawyer. The government has a solid case against you, Martell. There is no lawyer in town who would take your case.”

 

 

Margaery frowned as she stared critically at the banner painted with yellow and blue balloons on a pink background. “A little higher, gentlemen.”

Jaime, holding up one end of it, groaned. “Marge, I haven’t felt my left arm for half an hour. It’s high enough.”

“It looks wrong. Come on. It has to be perfect.” Margaery insisted.

Renly Baratheon rolled his eyes and told Jaime, “Just do what she says so we can get our arms back.”

“Thank you, sweetheart. That’s why I’m marrying you.” Margaery told him then added firmly. “Now up.”

Brienne saw Jaime pretending to look like he was dying and she laughed. As she did, the baby did a series of sommersaults in her belly, making her pause in the middle of arranging the brownies on the tray. She put a hand on her belly, wincing because the little one’s kicks got harder every time but she was delighted too. yet also delighted at how active the little one was.

She was six months pregnant now but looked and felt bigger. Everyone seemed to think she was on the verge of birth because people would give her concerned looks and ask why she hadn’t begun her maternity leave yet. It made her want to murder them, really. 

After the relative ease of the first few weeks of her first trimester, changes in her body suddenly came with the swiftness and efficiency of a blitzkrieg. Her breasts, grown to a very modest B, ballooned into a C. Judging from how her breasts still ached and itched as the skin stretched to fill with milk, she was looking at really epic tits by the time the little one came out. Sleep was already difficult because the little one was most active from ten p.m. onwards, not to mention the ache and stiffness in her back and legs, all over. None of her old clothes and the ones she had bought in anticipation of her growing size fit her anymore. She was reduced to tent-like tops, leggings and maxi dresses that were too low in the neckline and never long enough. 

Add to her growing discomfort was Westeros was looking to have the hottest summer on record. The temperature in her office in the museum was lowered to be as cold as in the Winter Lands, Podrick claimed in between coughs and sniffles but she still felt sticky and uncomfortable. Jaime too had to invest in a new air conditioning system because she was dripping sweat everywhere. He wore a heavy sweater and long johns to bed but Brienne was still hot even in just a nightshirt. But at least, at home, she didn’t have to wear a bra. Work meant bras and bras and the impossible weather meant really gross boob sweat—something she had never experienced ever. 

However uncomfortable and cranky she got, Brienne forgot all of it when the baby would move and kick just gently. The experience of something you helped create living and thriving inside you was just phenomenal, period. When the baby tired itself from turning around her stomach, Brienne patted the spot where she imagined its head was and resumed preparing the food. 

Margaery had been begging to let her organize a baby shower upon being told about the pregnancy. Brienne didn’t want to because, as sure she was of her relationship with Jaime, there was the fact that people knew she was still married to Oberyn. Margaery also had a wedding to think about but she dismissed Brienne’s concern by saying she had a wedding planner—she hired one precisely so she wouldn’t go crazy and could still do normal things. But the real reason was Brienne didn’t want any more talk but she made the mistake of bitching to Jaime about Margaery. She forgot that he took any opportunity that showed to the world they were together. He was on board from day one.   
It was both fascinating and disconcerting watching Jaime and Margaery squabbling over invitations, food, the guest list, the theme. Since Brienne didn’t want to know the sex of the baby yet, Jaime refused Margaery’s idea for a floral theme, deeming it “too female.” Margaery countered that his lion idea was “violent and macho.” 

Margaery wanted little sandwiches and pretty desserts, served with delicate teas. Jaime declared that Brienne wouldn’t survive an hour eating “six cut-outs of one sandwich” and proposed fried chicken wings, lamb skewers, nachos, and the like. In the end, Brienne gave them a list of foods she wanted: fried chicken wings, deep-fried potato wedges, club sandwiches, and “any dessert loaded with cream that isn’t any of the gluten-free, vegan garbage.” Drinks would either be pink lemonade or tea. 

After the banner was arranged to Margaery’s satisfaction, she turned her attention to the big box of loots for their guests. She waved Brienne over, her wide, excited grin almost splitting her face in half so she went to join them. 

“I found out about this candy store from my wedding caterer. They have the most darling chocolates.” With dramatic flourish, she pulled took out a white box with a bright red ribbon. Opening it, she revealed a carved figure of a baby in a cradle.

“Oh. It’s a chocolate baby,” Brienne remarked as she stood beside Jaime. She shivered in pleasure as he put his arms around her and took a quick lick of the skin below her ear before returning his attention to Margaery. 

“Not just,” Margaery exclaimed. Then she split the candy. Gooey, thick chocolate spilled out. She handed half to Brienne and the other to Jaime. To Renly, she only offered her finger. “Yum. So what do you think?”

“I know I should be disturbed but this is fucking incredible,” Jaime agreed while Brienne nodded.

“Chocolate babies. Who knew. A grotesque concept made cute,” Brienne seconded, making Margaery clap her hands.

“Oh, I knew you’d love it! Okay, Renly, you and I are in charge of writing the thank you cards that we will be attaching to these boxes. Brienne and Jaime still have a lot to do!” And with that, Margaery muscled Renly to the couch and handed him a stack of cards.

Jaime and Brienne finished off the rest of the candy by licking the sticky stuff from their fingers. As they headed back to the kitchen, he suddenly pulled her to him and kissed her. She sighed happily and put her arms around his shoulders. They looked in each other’s eyes. 

Last week, Ned reported that he and Tyrion had ambushed Arthur Dayne in the courthouse and served him papers for Oberyn. Brienne was surprised with Tyrion’s involvement until Jaime told her that Tywin intended to file a lawsuit against Oberyn as well. It was a bold, very risky move, especially since Oberyn had actually told the truth. Jaime assured her Tywin was only bluffing. It was just a promise of things worsening if Oberyn still refused her terms.

After they had invited Tywin over for dinner that first time, they extended him another invitation. This time, things were less awkward. Jaime’s father seemed more accepting of her now, which she was very grateful about. The relationship between father and son seemed on the mend too. 

They never told Tywin about Selyne’s true paternity. As far as the other members of the clan were concerned outside of Kevan, Tywin, Jaime and Tyrion, Jon was the father of Cersei’s children. They also had the impression that Cersei’s prolonged absence was because she was at a very exclusive spa retreat recovering from the scandal. This explained why the children were with Jon since they couldn’t be left without a parent. 

The days following Jon and Selyne’s visit were difficult. Jaime had easily accepted that he might be her father, back when it was only a suspicion. The hard truth was difficult to swallow and it made him fearful that Brienne would leave him this time. It was a shit situation, to say the least. While Jaime did not make demands of her, Brienne was compelled to assure him repeatedly of her commitment. It was hard for her too—a part of her still hoped that Gerion fathered both children. But she loved Jaime and nothing could undo it. This she would vow to him many times until, frustrated with Jaime’s continuing paranoia, she begged him that they go away for a few days. 

Four days alone in the mountains had them re-connecting to each other. The confirmation would have destroyed most couples—very few would have gotten to where they were then—but as Brienne had pointed out, they were stronger because each empathized with the other. More than understanding what each of them had gone through these several months, they had fought and would still fight to be together. 

Brienne wondered if she could have endured those highly emotional four days if not for the little one. Their baby would move aggressively every time Jaime was close. When Brienne managed to make him laugh for the first time since the visit, the little one did somersaults. Tingling flutters would be the little one’s token response when its parents kissed. 

Things could be described as close to seamless after that. There were days Brienne forgot about her current marital woes and thought she and Jaime had been married for a while. It made her head spin, the idea of them married for a long time. She also wouldn’t let herself think of the possibility that it was Oberyn’s child in her. Though she believed Jaime when he declared himself the father of the little one, it was a different matter altogether when she gave birth to a baby with dark curls and dark eyes. It would just be. Her most fervent wish was not that Oberyn sign the papers anymore. It was that the little one was truly Jaime’s blood. It had to be, to be moving so every time he was close. She pretended to complain that despite her doing the heavy work, the baby clearly had a favourite parent already and it wasn’t her.

“So,” Jaime said, brushing her hair away from her face. It was cut to a practical crop again due to the weather. Brienne smiled back at him, overwhelmed with just how much she loved this man. “What exactly happens in a baby shower, wench? Is there going to a male stripper dressed in a nappy?”

“Hush. Until I convinced Margaery to make this open to the men, she did think about hiring a stripper.” She joked. 

“Would you like me to, I don’t know, put on a bib later when they’re gone, strip to my boxers and dance for you?” He rejoined, chuckling as she reddened.

“Do that and I’m walking out of that door, Jaime.” When he didn’t smile, she grimaced. “Sorry. Too soon?”

“Someday, we’ll be able to joke about the shitstorm we’ve been through,” He assured her, dropping a kiss on the tip of her nose.

“Promise?”

“On my word of honour, wench.”

The shower began an hour later. At Margaery’s insistence, Brienne put on a royal blue maxi dress with spaghetti straps and a deep, sweetheart neckline to show off her cleavage. When she emerged from the bedroom looking unsure, it was Jaime’s awed expression that made her blush and be a little more confident. Brienne couldn’t see it but blue really was her colour. Add her lush hair and pale skin and it was very striking on her. 

The guest list was not very long. There was Podrick and his girlfriend, a slim, tall, brunette named Mirelle. Catelyn and Ned were invited but, as Catelyn hugged Brienne, told her Ned was down with the flu so she brought Sansa instead. Brienne smiled as she hugged the younger woman.

Everyone was shocked with surprise when Pia entered the apartment and Bronn helped her put on a light sweater. No one knew they were dating, but from their secretive looks and smiles, it was clear this had been going on for a while. Jaime and Tyrion were sitting together and they had to smother a laugh. After all, Bronn had joked graphically some time ago about nailing Pia and he was successful. 

Tyrion showed up solo, as did Peck. 

Though it was a small party, there was plenty of laughter all around. Most of them knew each other so conversation was easy. The gifts were generous even though Brienne made sure to only ask for reasonably-priced items. The ‘oohing’ and ‘aahing’ came to an end when Brienne unwrapped a box of—

“Uh, condoms?” She asked, her cheeks flushing pink. It wasn’t that the gift was condoms. It was that it was a huge variety pack. Jaime took the gift tag and flipped a bird in Bronn’s direction. 

“Asshole,” he said, shaking his head.

“What? Look, I know this fucker here.” Bronn said as Pia punched him on the shoulder. To Brienne, he said, “It’s a wonder he knocked you up only now.”

“Well, I suppose you’re the expert on _not_ knocking up anyone. Jaime told me things,” Brienne said, winking at Bronn. He grinned and put a finger to his lips, prompting Pia to tell Brienne, “Okay, you’re telling me things later, Brienne.”

After the gifts were put away, they converged in different groups. Bronn and Pia remained together, but Catelyn joined them. Sansa navigated to Pod and Mirelle since they were close in age. Tyrion, Peck, Renly and Jaime formed their own group.

Margaery scraped the frosting off the side of the lemon cake and piled it on Brienne’s plate. They were in the kitchen sitting at the counter. Margaery was enjoying a mimosa while Brienne was stuck with pink lemonade and cake frosting. When the frosting wasn’t enough, she got up and took a can of whipped cream from the cupboard. She squeezed it over the frosting, threw in a mix of raspberries and blueberries into the fluff and sat down to enjoy it. 

“Thanks for doing this, Marge,” Brienne told her gratefully. “It was a great party.”

“Please, anything for you.” Margaery said. She kissed Brienne on the cheek. “But you are welcome.”

“Really, Marge,” Brienne squeezed her hand. “You’ve done so much. What did I do to deserve a best friend such as you?”

“Well, you actually like me.” Margaery joked. She rested her head on Brienne’s shoulder. “Silly girl. I should be the one asking that. All I did was introduce myself to you that day in our dorm room. But can I help it if you have good taste?”

Brienne laughed. “Whatever.”

“Look at Jaime,” Margaery told her. “I only knew him through you but something tells me he wasn’t that happy until you came along.”

Brienne stared at Jaime. He had cut his shoulder-length blond man short, which gave him a more elegant, chiseled appearance. He was laughing at something Tyrion was saying and shaking his head. Then Renly said something and Jaime snorted.

He did look happy. Oh, Jaime was still sarcastic and drove her crazy because he took sick delight riling her up. But yes, he did look happy. Happy and relaxed. As if he had no problems at all. Brienne felt a little wistful that it took Jaime a while to get there. He was a good man. Difficult and trying but undeniably a good man who deserved better than the cards he was dealt with. 

As if sensing he was being watched, Jaime glanced up and saw her. Brienne blushed as a warm, beautiful smile broke across his face. It lit up the room. It reached right into her heart.

“I know how things are with you right now,” Margaery continued. “But that man clearly loves you. Going through Seven Hells is worth it if it’s Jaime Lannister at your side.”   
“Yeah,” Brienne said, her heart twisting at the truth. Jaime then looked away and proceeded to make a retort at what the men in his group had just said. They all howled and Renly swatted him on the head. Jaime shot the man a deadly look and declared that anyone who messes with his hair again would be shoved down the toilet. Tyrion, chucking, called his bluff. Jaime retaliated by yanking at his brother’s locks. Tyrion yelped and growled he hoped Jaime's cock would fall off. Renly and Peck had to intervene. 

“He’s worth everything,” she added, warm with the knowledge and for the first time, free of the guilt that often laced her loving him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like the idea that Brienne gets these slightly angsty, fluffy thoughts about Jaime while he engages in something as silly as hair-pulling. 
> 
> Latest chapter is up! Please tell me what you think! Thank you for reading.


	8. I See You, Hear You, And No More

Ned was still battling a bad cold a few days later when Jaime, Brienne and Tyrion marched into the conference room. It was difficult to tell who was more pissed in the bunch. All looked like they wanted to kill. Brienne, huge and red-faced with fury, looked like someone who would run to the frontlines of a battle just for the satisfaction of delivering the first strike to the enemy. The Lannister brothers, on the other hand, looked eager to collect debts. 

He held out his hand to Brienne. “Show me.”

Brienne was not a beautiful woman. She was not even pretty. Pregnancy had softened her coarse features so she didn’t look as harsh as she used to. Ned didn’t worry that she blamed him but she looked mad enough to tear him from limb to limb with her bare hands if he made a mistake. Her eyes, vivid and clear, were dark and stormy as they stared at him a moment before handing over the papers.

Ned didn’t have to read long. Skimming a few lines, his mind quickly picking the highlights, he put it away and faced the trio.

“There’s going to be a hearing if Oberyn has enough grounds to demand a paternity test,” he told them. “Nothing is definite yet. Brienne, you’re still married even when you’re living with another man. In the eyes of the law, Oberyn is the father. We will have to prove that’s not the case.”

He hadn’t known about Brienne’s pregnancy until just recently, when she met him about wanting to propose a settlement for her house so that Oberyn would back off once and for all. Ned calculated only a few weeks had passed but she was a lot bigger now. She looked like she was ready to give birth anytime. 

“This means you are going to have to tell me everything about your relationship.” He continued, looking at her carefully then Jaime. “I need to know when you first met, when did it become sexual, the circumstances, any trips you took, lunches, dinners, all the meetings you’ve had to not give Oberyn any more ammunition. I’m assuming from the look of you you’re, what, almost thirty-eight?”

Jaime shot Ned a warning look and Brienne glared at him. “I’m twenty-seven weeks.”

Shit. Seven fucking hells. Ned mentally shook his head. 

“If Oberyn is demanding a paternity test none of our warnings got through him,” Tyrion told Ned. “This is far from the desired result.”

“There’s also the implication that he’s still having Brienne watched.” Jaime added. 

“He has every right to have her watched. Come on, Jaime. She’s married but fucking you. I’m sorry,” Ned said when Brienne started to protest. “But you’re going to have to be ready for an unsympathetic judge, Brienne. Yes, you’re not asking Oberyn for anything. You’re even willing to pay him off more than he deserved. But judges at family court are the most conservative sons of bitches. We have less than zero chances of getting a judge who will at least try to see this from your side. Unless we’re able to present evidence of Oberyn’s neglect and how it’s given you emotional distress, leading you to have this affair with Jaime.”

“I was not emotionally distressed in any way,” Brienne growled.

“Wench—I mean, Brienne,” Jaime put a hand on her knee. “You came to me just hours after your father’s funeral. You may not think you are. I don’t believe you are. But I understand what Ned’s getting at here. We’l have to get a shrink to attest that you turned to me because of the emotional distress caused by Oberyn, and exacerbated with your father’s death.”

“Precisely. You’re going to be asked questions, Brienne. Arthur Dayne can ask you anything. If he wants to know the condom brand you use, he can. If he wants to know how many times you and Jaime have sex in a week, he can. I will protect you to the best of my ability but you should know, and I can’t emphasize this enough, we will most likely not get a sympathetic judge.” He cleared his throat. “But we can sway the judge if you go on record about the sexual assault.”

Brienne’s face crumped and she looked at Jaime as if for help. 

“The fact that it wasn’t reported is a disadvantage. But we can turn it as such that due to already being emotionally distressed, you couldn’t report it You didn’t know if anyone would believe you. He’s your husband. How is it possible for a man to rape his wife? That’s what most people think. Spousal rape is real but it’s also very difficult to prove. But we can lead the judge toward that depending on your testimony.” As Brienne paled, Ned bowed his head. “I’m sorry if I’m being blunt. But I need you ready. I don’t want you looking at me like you’re doing now. I want you to be like that on the inside but the face the judge will see is a woman who’s been cruelly emotionally unwounded by her husband.”

“Or we can just take the paternity test.” Jaime countered. He looked desperate yet feral “Now. In an hour. Next week. Over my dead body Brienne will be subjected to the kind of cross-examination you’re doing now. I’m not going to have her health and our child’s jeopardized.”

“That may be the best course of action.” Tyrion agreed.

“Do you know the date of the baby’s conception?” Ned asked Brienne. 

Brienne looked at Jaime again. When she spoke, her shoulders slumped. 

“It’s the first thing I asked the doctor. The day of the assault.” Brienne looked close to tears. “Jaime and I also had sex earlier that day.”

As Ned digested this, Tyrion snapped his fingers.

“The paternity test. This is our way out. I see this now. I can’t fucking believe I’m only seeing this now. Brienne, what Oberyn is doing is trying to wear you down. Both of you,” he said, nodding at Jaime. “That man has not minced words in how much he wants you back. He wants you in that courtroom telling the judge what happened the last time you had sex so his lawyer could counter that it was consensual. The fact that we’re not going to get a judge who will at least consider being on our side means he will see you as a wife leaving a sinking ship to a bigger one. Oberyn’s being tried for tax evasion, you just happen to leave him at the same time—that son of a bitch will have the judge eating out of his hand.”

“You’re saying there’s a way I don’t have to get on the stand?” Brienne asked hopefully.

“When we go to court, we state right away that we’re ready for a paternity test.” Ned said. “Yes, Tyrion, you’re right. That’s exactly what Oberyn is doing. He wouldn’t be expecting us submitting to the very thing he’s suing us for.”

“Brienne,” Jaime tugged her hand so she would turn to him. “Remember. No matter what. I’m the father of the child.”

 

She nodded wordlessly.  
“Worst-case scenario, Oberyn is the biological father. He will want his parental rights, even from prison.” Ned told them.

“He’s not the father of my baby. I know he isn’t,” Brienne insisted.

“Let’s just make sure, Brienne. Once and for so we can put all this behind us,” Ned said.

“Hold on.” Brienne suddenly looked alarmed. “The test would mean having an amniocentesis. I’m not going to have a doctor stick a fucking needle in my stomach just to determine who’s the father. I won’t risky having my baby hurt.”

“There are non-invasive ways that have a higher accuracy.” Ned assured her. “Being that we are agreeing to Oberyn’s demands, I’m sure the judge would also agree to the kind of test we want done.”

 

“Did I hear that right?” Judge Walder Frey demanded. His beady eyes narrowed at Brienne, who tried not to squirm in her seat. He openly leered at her breasts, quickly licking his lips. “I thought I was going to hear arguments countering the suit.” He then shifted his accusing gaze to Ned then Arthur.

Three days have passed. The morning found Brienne and Ned in Walder Frey’s court. Ned had snarled under his breath upon finding out who the judge was. According to him, Walder Frey had no place in anything involving the law. He was believed to have doctored the results of his bar exam, had never won a single case as a lawyer and was nearly disbarred once for his proclivities. He had been married and divorced five times and was looking to marry wife number six. This was shocking to Brienne as the man looked wizened, a mad wizard of sorts. He was positively ancient. He walked with a cane! 

Brienne felt Oberyn’s eyes on her. She was glad that despite being taller than Ned, she couldn’t really see him. They had been the first to arrive, Arthur and Oberyn following ten minutes later. Brienne thought he looked a little thin and while a little concerned, she was not as concerned as she would have been months ago. She was sorry for cheating but she couldn’t be sorry for loving Jaime. 

“We’re here to state our agreement to the demands of Mr. Martell,” Ned replied. With a pointed glance at Oberyn and Arthur, he added. “Mr. Dayne is representing Mr. Martell’s ongoing trial for tax evasion and also his divorce from Miss Tarth. We thought to give them a helping hand by making this easy on them.”

“Ha. What do you say to that, eh, Dayne?” Judge Frey said mockingly. “Stark wants to make things easy for you.”

Arthur’s face was bland. “My client and I have no quarrel.”

“Good.”

“Being that we have no plans in countering the request, we would like to propose a new paternity test that has a higher accuracy than previous ones. It’s non-invasive, so the mother and the child will not be in danger, as opposed to an amniocentesis and CVS. The test is a non-invasive prenatal paternity test on maternal blood. If I may continue, Judge?” Ned asked.

Judge Frey waved his hand. “Go on.” He sounded bored.

“Blood will be drawn from the mother and the potential fathers of the foetus,” Ned continued. “The test is best conducted at the fourteenth week of pregnancy and beyond. The fathers will also provide blood samples for comparison. The results will be available in nine business days.”

“What say you, Dayne? Does your client agree?” Judge Frey demanded.

“We would like to pick the provider of the service,” Dayne declared.

“We object,” Ned countered. “The reason we’re here is Mr. Martell somehow found out about Miss Tarth’s pregnancy when she hasn’t seen him for months. That tell us he has sources, yet to be identified, that keep him informed about her. Miss Tarth does not trust any source or anything that is provided by Mr. Martell. We have no doubt that Mr. Martell is not the father but we are cooperating, nevertheless. I would like to ask the judge to allow us to choose the service provider but with the agreement of the other party.”

“Sounds fair. Your client is not exactly credible at the moment, being that he’s facing a slander charge as well, Dayne.” Judge Frey said. “Do you have one in mind now, Stark?”

“We have a list.”

“Let’s go over them in my chambers, then.” 

Brienne didn’t realize until Ned had gone stiff and unmoving beside her what this invitation implied. Hurriedly, she glanced at Oberyn, who was, indeed staring at her. Ned put a hand on her shoulder and lowered his head to her ear.

“He’s cuffed to the chair.”

It should be assuring. Oberyn was not going to make a move on her. Still, Brienne felt choked and too warm at being alone with a hate man in court. Not even the presence of a guard smoothly entering and positioning himself by the door comforted her. I should have let Jaime come with me, she thought, wanting to kick herself. Jaime had been insistent but she and Ned talked him out of it.

Brienne stared straight ahead when Oberyn suddenly drawled, “So, my dear, sweet wife. We find ourselves alone at last.”

She ignored him.

“You look beautiful.” Oberyn sounded reverent. “I miss you.”

She wouldn’t look at him.

Oberyn let out a long, loud sigh. “Is this how it is, then? You really hate me, baby?”

She felt loved and precious when he called her that. That was a long time ago. Now she heard the condescension in his tone. The note of superiority. _Baby, indeed. ___

__“Do you know what we’re having?”_ _

__“This is _not_ your child, Oberyn,” she snapped. “This is mine and Jaime’s.”_ _

__“Jaime Lannister.” Oberyn snapped. “I can’t believe that after all this time you’re still with him. I thought you were better than that.”_ _

__Brienne crossed her arms. It was awkard with the bump. Oberyn saw this and he smiled._ _

__“Pregnancy does become you, Brienne. I imagine if you’re still with me, I’d be fucking you day and night. You look like a goddess.”_ _

__Brienne wished she wasn’t blushing. She and Jaime were fucking nearly every day and night. Fucking was so intense and so insanely good. She couldn’t get enough kissing him, his scent, the feel of his beard rasping her breasts and nipples. The non-sex moments were just as good, at times even better._ _

__So she concentrated on the memory of Jaime smiling at her as he massaged her feet. He liked to tease her about their size as he rubbed the soreness away from them. There was also how he would go to the doctor with her, holding her hand. Or when he read the pregnancy and baby books with her. A fond smile teased the corners of her lips. She didn’t’ leave marks on books but Jaime was a manic note-taker. He underlined and highlighted passages, he left sticky notes on the pages with scribbles. He marked them so she would know what to pay attention to when it was her turn to read the book._ _

__Brienne had not listened to The Swan since that first time in the bookstore. It was a sad piece, really, and it could even be morbid that she used to associate the song with her first child and listened to it still. But one day, she came home to Jaime playing the CD. He had looked guilty but she didn’t ask him to stop playing it. Her heart throbbed at the gentle, drawn notes. It was a music of death and futility, of grace against odds. By the time it finished, she was crying. Sad for her first child, yes—there was no changing that. But she also cried for her father. She missed him and would cry for short moments but after listening to The Swan after so long, she truly cried and felt the loss of Selwyn for the first time. Jaime said nothing. He just held her and kissed her._ _

__Jaime was there for her, no matter what. Brienne understood that there would be times he wouldn’t be but she always knew he would try, he would fight to be at her side when she needed him. With Oberyn, she felt like having to convince him that her need could be greater at times. Asking him to cut down on traveling didn’t mean she wanted him home with her all the time. Oberyn misunderstood it. She needed him and even when he wasn’t there, needed to know that when she called, he would go through Seven Hells to get to her side. No amount of gifts, trips and sex could fill the pain of his absence, that he didn’t really try._ _

__Jaime, on the other hand, fought. He fought hard and if he had to, Brienne could see him having to fight dirty too. She didn’t want him fighting for her or for them but knowing he would told her she was important to him. She hadn’t felt that with Oberyn for a long time._ _

__“You were wrong about me,” she said quietly to Oberyn. As she spoke, she caressed her stomach, imagining the little one’s thick tuft of golden blond hair. She raised her eyes to him and for the first time, felt none of the hate and anger toward him._ _

__“I figured as much.” Oberyn sat back. “You give a woman everything and she will still leave you for the rich man.”_ _

__“Is that why you think I left you?” Brienne demanded in disbelief. “The problem is not that you didn’t know any better. You never knew me at all.”_ _

__“Oh, please, Brienne. I worked my ass off to give you what you deserve. You know what Selywn told me when we went to Tarth to announce our engagement? `Give only the best to my little girl.’ I was poor yet he trusted me to do that. You don’t know how it is to have nothing. To have to fight to just get even the littlest thing.”_ _

__“I had to fight for you to be with me when I needed you.”_ _

__“You should have known me better than that, Brienne. I didn’t want to be away from you. But it was the price to pay if it mean you had everything. Comfort. Luxury.”_ _

__“I didn’t have everything. You weren’t there. I felt that I didn’t matter to you. You swaddled me with expensive gifts to make up for your absence but it wasn’t you. I needed you. And when you made it clear that I didn’t matter enough, did you really think I would still stick around?”_ _

__“Lannister has the luxury of being with you because he shits gold.”_ _

__“You couldn’t be more wrong about him.”_ _

__Oberyn looked pointedly at her stomach then her face. “I know he’s not the father.”_ _

__“Even if he isn’t, he’s the father this child deserves, not you. You only want the satisfaction of being the father but you won’t be there to do it. You’ll keep reasoning you’re away or you work hard to give the baby the best. Your best is shit.”_ _

__“Bravo,” Oberyn mocked. “You fuck lions and you grow claws.”_ _

__“I didn’t get them from fucking anyone.”_ _

__They stared at each other, one tired, the other angry._ _

__“You told me you’re sorry for loving me,” Oberyn began. “Did you really mean—“_ _

__“Yes.” Brienne said simply. It was cruel but she had yet to regret saying so. It was the truth._ _

__Oberyn let out a huff and looked away._ _

__“People change but you became a stranger.” Brienne shook her head. “I tried so hard but you wouldn’t let me. Drove myself crazy wanting to please you and get you to see that I matter. Oberyn, we both know I don’t. You’re only prolonging the divorce because you like to win.”_ _

__“You really don’t know me.”_ _

__“That’s how I’ve come to you know you. And I didn’t like it.”_ _

__“You mean what you had wasn’t enough.”_ _

__“There’s no point in talking to you when you’re stubborn like tihs.” Brienne said in frustration. “If that’s what you want to think of me, fine. I don’t matter to you. You don’t matter enough to me to try talking to you or be bothered with what you think o me. As I said, you’ve become a stranger. How can you expect me to love someone like that? But since you do, then it’s clear, isn’t it?" She looked at him in such a way that he couldn't tear his eyes off her. "You don’t know me at all.”_ _


	9. Blood Will Tell

Though exhausted Brienne was thankful for today’s small but important victory. She had quickly called Jaime to share the good news. 

“I’ll take you to the clinic tomorrow at nine,” Ned told Brienne as he dropped her off at the museum. “Tell Jaime he’s coming with us too.”

“Nine days,” Brienne muttered, heaving herself out of the car. It was a bitch having to shift and move and maneuver her massive, heavy frame out of the car. Panting a little, she turned to Ned, “That’s going to be a long wait.”

“At least it will be over.” He assured her with a pat on her hand. “Say hello to Cat for me. And tell her I’m taking her out later.”

Brienne grinned. “If you’re celebrating, then I should too.”

“You should, Brienne. Or at least get some rest. Don’t hit me but you look like you could use a good night’s sleep. Stop thinking for a while and just relax.” 

“Well, if you can do it, I suppose I can too.”

Brienne popped in Catelyn’ office to relay her husband’s message, drawing a happy smile from her boss. In her own office, Brienne went over the upcoming museum events with Pod. With only a few months left in the year, they were wrapping up on activities to make way for new ones. The first quarter of the year would be devoted to launching promising artists, which meant a big show and lots of press coverage. She also gave Pod names of artists she wanted to touch base with, in the hopes that she could get them to hold an exhibit at the museum for the first time.

By the time it was six, Brienne was more than ready to leave. She thought about swinging by a restaurant for take-out but she really, really wanted to put her feet up, get rid of her uncomfortable bra and just sleep. If it wasn’t sleeping or fucking, she wanted to sleep. The cab driver had to call her a few times because she had dozed off. They were at Casterly Company already.

Once again, Brienne had to heave and puff and move awkwardly out of the car. She walked to the side of the building feeling cross because she was sweating from the lingering heat of the day. 

She unlocked the first door and, squaring her shoulders, trudged up the staircase leading to the apartment. As she advanced, she heard the strains of a Cole Porter song. She was smiling by the time she unlocked the door, when the song hit her full blast as well as the delicious aromas coming from the kitchen. Jaime grinned at her as he sampled a taste of the sauce he was cooking. 

“I have never been so glad to be home!” Brienne announced, kicking off her shoes and flinging her purse to the couch dramatically as she made her way to Jaime. Suddenly, she wasn’t as tired. No, she wasn’t tired or cranky at all. 

“Get over here and see if this is good,” Jaime told her as she approached. Once she was close enough, he dipped the spoon in the sauce and held it out to her. She leaned forward and tasted the sauce off the spoon.

“Too much garlic?” He asked, and it was cute how worried he looked. “Spicy? Not enough saffron?”

“Is that what it is?” Brienne asked, licking her lip.

“Is it alright?”

“It’s perfect,” she assured him, tipping his chin toward her for a kiss. “Will it be ready soon?”

“Give it a minute. Would you mind setting the table?” As Brienne went to get the plates, Jaime suddenly grabbed her and spun her around. Blinking at him, she asked, “What?”  
As a way of answering, he suddenly smashed his mouth to hers. He tasted of spaghetti sauce and secret spices, also wine but best of all, Jaime. With a moan, she threw herself in his arms, both of them laughing as he was suddenly pressed against the counter none too gently. But his arms wrapped around her back, a hand lowered to her hip. Her breasts were heavy and aching with the sudden spike of her want for him. Blushing, she took his other hand and settled it on her breast. 

Jaime sucked her tongue hard and grunted, “That feels amazing, wench. _You_ feel amazing.” 

Brienne closed her eyes dreamily as he kissed her around the jaw, her neck, squeezing her breasts eagerly. “I don’t know,” she gasped, “if I should fuck you or let you feed me first.”

“A conundrum,” he agreed, this time grabbing her hand and settling it over his cock. Gods. He was hard and felt full.

She couldn’t be this happy. She shouldn’t be. The matter with Oberyn was far from settled but in Jaime’s arms, problems tend to be so small and far away. His kisses near obliterated them. She grabbed his chin to once again cover his mouth with hers.

Halfway through the kiss, however, came a series of furious, powerful kicks from her stomach. Brienne laughed and groaned while Jaime’s kisses eased until he could pull away from her. His green eyes shone with a love that made her heart suddenly go still before resuming its steady, but now elevated beat.

“The little one just answered the question for us, wench.” He said playfully. Through her shirt, his finger circled her swollen, sensitive nipple. “I guess this means I won’t see your beautiful tits until later.”

Reluctantly, they let go of each other and went about readying for dinner. Brienne laid out the plates and utensils, glasses. She took cloth napkins from the drawer and folded them into flowers while Jaime put a huge dish of the pasta on the table, then a bowl of meatballs and the sauce. Brienne gave him a happy smile.

“You’re a sweetheart, Jaime,” she marveled, touched by the gesture. “You made my favourite.”

They sat down and he kissed her hand. “It’s been a hard day but the judge agreed to your request. That’s something to celebrate. If I may serve you, my lady?” He asked gallantly.

“Please,” she said, holding up her plate.

Jaime put spaghetti on her plate, then the sauce, followed by three pieces of meatballs and a generous dump of Parmesan on top. She forked into a meatball and gooey mozzarella came out. She loaded up her fork then put it in her mouth, closing her eyes in pleasure. Only then did Jaime serve himself.

Thinking a meal of her favourites was the celebration, Jaime happily proved her wrong a while later. He not only did the dishes but also cleaned up the kitchen. Then he presented her with a bouquet of winter roses. “I meant to give them to you when you arrived but you distracted me,” he said. As she sniffed them happily and put them in water, he told her to climb into pajamas because they were watching Breakfast at Tiffany’s. 

Jaime looked smug as Brienne flushed, moved by what he’d done tonight. “You really are all about celebrating,” she mumbled, looking at her feet. It was her favourite movie.

“Don’t you see how soon we can put this behind us?” Jaime asked, putting a finger under her chin so he could look in her eyes. “Brienne, whether the results show me to be the biological father or not, this is still my child. I’ll be the father in ways Oberyn will never be,” he vowed, his palm caressing her stomach. “The worst he can do is demand joint custody but with all his problems, no judge would grant him that. At least, not without strict supervision.”

“Jaime, I’m glad that’s how you think. That means a lot. But that means Oberyn is still in our lives. The little one has got to be yours or he’s never going to agree to the divorce.” Then she let herself say what she had long feared. “We might never get married.”

“To me we already are.” He took her hand with the ring and showed it to her. “This tells me you not only love me but are with me in every way, all the way. A wedding is only a ceremony for making what we have legal. We’re beyond that. We’ve been through things not even the strongest married couple would endure. We could have ended what we had several times but here we are. This is where we are meant to be, Brienne. With each other.”

“I want so much to believe that—“

“Believe it.” He grasped her cheek. His stare was resolute though there was the slightest note of a plea in his voice. “You and I are all that matter, wench. If you believe that, things will turn in our favor. They have to. We have a debt to collect. Now,” he kissed her gently on the tip of her nose and stepped back. “Get into your most comfortable pajamas then come back to me. I don’t know about you but it gets to me every time she leaves that cat in the dumpster and runs back for it in the rain. Don’t make me watch that scene alone, wench.”

She laughed and nodded. After a quick shower, she put on an old, faded yellow tank top and pale blue drawstring pajamas with white stars. Jaime was ready and just waiting for when she got to the living room. And by ready, it was Jaime Lannister-style: the movie just about to play, the coffee table loaded with bowls of gummy bears, potato chips and Milk Duds. She didn’t bother masking her impressed look as he gave her a sheepish, aw-shucks-ma’am grin, complete with a shrug. He had already propped up pillows on the couch so she was comfortable. 

Brienne woke up the next day on the couch, a blanket flung over her. Rubbing her eyes, she saw Jaime was fast asleep on the floor. He was curled up on his side, his back facing her. He had pushed the table off to the other side to give himself room.

Carefully, she sat up, rubbing her back. She had to scoot to the end of the couch in order to swing her legs to the side, else she’d hit Jaime and wake him up. She put spread the blanket on him then padded to the bathroom to relieve herself.

When she emerged a few minutes later, Jaime was sitting up, leaning against the couch. His hair stuck out like golden spikes, he looked sleepy and had clearly passed a restless, uncomfortable night on the floor. She gave him her hand to kiss because she couldn’t really bend now to give him a real one. Picking up the empty bowls, she asked, “Why didn’t sleep in bed last night?”

He scratched his cheek and throat, dark already with stubble. “You might fall.”

“From the couch?”

“I couldn’t pull it out so I can sleep beside you. I figured if you do fall at least there’s me on the floor.” 

The man was too sweet and he wasn’t even trying. Pink in the cheeks, she stammered, “My, Ser Jaime, thank you.”

He smiled and yawned. “You’re welcome.”

“There’s still time before Ned comes for us,” Brienne said as she stacked the bowls and picked them up. “You can still sleep for another hour.”

“I’m already awake. Not that great but not awful, either.” Jaime got up and stretched again. The action pulled his t-shirt up, revealing his taut stomach, his very sexy innie belly button and the trail of dark blond hair leading to the prize—which was a definite bulge in his pajamas. She swallowed, feeling herself going hot. Catching this, he smirked. “Like what you see, wench?”

She threw the last pieces of gummy bears at him. Jaime yelped and caught one, flinging it back to her. “Keep that up and I won’t make you coffee. And waffles.”

“You do know how to keep me in line.” He said, going to her and kissing her lazily on the mouth. “I guess that means while you’re all domestic in the kitchen, I have to take care of myself in the shower.”

She giggled and shoved him away.

Thirty minutes later, they sat down for breakfast, dressed and ready. Jaime wore a jacket over his white t-shirt because of the temperature in their apartment, jeans cuffed at the ankle and black sneakers. Brienne was wearing a deep crimson sleeveless wrap dress and low-heeled black sandals. They talked quietly; each was tensed but dared not speak of it so as not to worry the other. 

Ned arrived right on time. Brienne got in the front seat while Jaime leaped to the back. He drove them to the hospital. There, they were met by a Dr. Luwin, a short, grandfatherly man that reminded Brienne of her father. 

“Has Oberyn Martell provided a sample?” Ned asked Dr. Luwin as Jaime and Brienne followed closely behind.

“Yesterday afternoon. You were right to warn me about the man,” Dr. Luwin said. “I welcome questions but he was adamant about having the entire process monitored. I put my foot down.”

Brienne gave Jaime a worried look. It wouldn’t surprise her if Oberyn would attempt to doctor the results.

“That’s why I’m doing everything myself, to ensure the privacy and security of the entire process.”

Jaime and Brienne first signed a bunch of forms before they were led to separate rooms. Brienne had her blood drawn first, then Jaime. He emerged from the room looking a little pale and confessed to feeling queasy. Dr. Luwin pointed to the bathroom and that was where Jaime spent a few minutes, no doubt getting sick. When he joined them, he was a little glassy-eyed but not as pale anymore.

“I’m okay,” he told Brienne, giving him a concerned look. “I don’t like blood and needles, that’s all.”

“Allow us nine days to do the job and then we will send the results to you,” Dr. Luwin told Ned. 

“Well,” Ned gave Jaime and Brienne a look. “This is it. It’s out of our hands.”

It took nine days, excluding weekends. For the next eleven days, Jaime and Brienne tried to live as normally as possible. He surprised her one day with a space full of empty bookshelves. As she stared at it, trying unsuccessfully to hide her confusion, he explained that this would be room for the baby one day. “The building is three thousand square feet. More than enough space for two but quite enough for a family,” he told her, unaware of the stunned look on her face that softened to tender joy as he moved around the space. “We can start renovating next year, when the baby is older. I think you would like the baby to sleep with us in the meantime and that’s a good idea. But like, over here, we can put the crib and the dresser--”

Brienne burst into tears and hugged him tightly. “I love you so much.”

As Jaime literally made room for their little one, Brienne thought to show her appreciation by giving him a boys’ night out. It took her, Tyrion and Bronn to get him out of the apartment. Jaime was worried she’d start craving cheeseburger and he wouldn’t be there to get it for her. “There’s delivery,” she told him.

“You fall asleep a lot,” he pointed out, trying to bat away Bronn’s grip from under his armpits. "You'll miss it." 

She cocked an eyebrow at him. “Here’s something you should know about pregnant women, Jaime. When we’re starving, we are definitely not going to fall asleep.” 

“Sometimes she gets these godawful contraction-like cramps,” Jaime told Bronn and Tyrion desperately, grabbing at the door frame.

“If I do, Margaery is here. She can drive me to the hospital. Relax,” Brienne soothed him.

“I’ll take good care of her,” Margaery called out from the kitchen, where she was nibbling on carrot sticks. “I downloaded some really hot gay porn videos.” As she winked, Bronn made a face.

“That’s it, you fucker. We’re getting out of here!” He declared, giving Jaime a hard pull. Jaime dug his nails I'd the timeframe. Brienne sighed and removed one finger at a time from it.

Tyrion, however, was intrigued. “So that’s what you do on a girls’ night in? You watch gay porn?” he asked Margaery.

Margaery smiled demurely. “Hmm. sometimes we watch lesbian porn too. They inspire the love scenes in my books but the characters are straight. Straight porn is not really to our taste. Then we make out.” 

Jaime looked interested and smirked at Brienne, who was blushing heavily. “Well—“

Brienne planted her hand flat on his chest and gave him a sure shove. “I’ll see you at midnight, Jaime.” She shut the door and gave Margaery a look. “Thanks a lot. We _don’t_ watch lesbian porn. Or make out.”

“Didn’t want to shatter the man’s illusions,” Margaery said, attacking the bag of potato chips next. “It’s a lot sexier than saying we just stuff our faces with junk and fat.”

Eleven days later, the lab results arrived via messenger. Ned tore open the envelope, his eyes quickly jumping to the results at the end of the page. After reading it, he sighed and looked out the window. The sky was overcast. A streak of lightning flashed. He took his phone and called Brienne.

Brienne was in the kitchen, standing in front of the open fridge getting cool when she took Ned’s call. Heart in her throat, she answered it and nodded tersely, contributing only monosyllabic replies. She said goodbye and hung up. She pulled out a stool from the counter and sat down. Blankly, she stared off into space until the door opened and Jaime entered the apartment. He had been away for a day trip to pick up a valuable book edition. 

“Hey,” Brienne greeted him, forcing herself to smile.

“Hey yourself,” Jaime said, kissing her on the forehead. He smelled of sun and his musk. Moaning softly, she pressed her nose against his throat and breathed deeply. He put his arms around her and pressed more kisses along her hairline.

“Ned called,” she said, her face still pressed against shirt. “He has the results.”

Jaime pulled slightly away to look at her. His jaw tightened. “And?”

“We have to be in court tomorrow. That’s one of the deals he made with Arthur, as witnessed by Judge Frey. We all find out together.” As Jaime remained quiet, she sighed. “I’m sorry, Jaime. You just got home, haven’t even taken off your shoes.” 

“You know it’s alright. How do you feel?”

“Scared,” she admitted.

“Me too.”

She put her arms around him. As she did, she tilted her head up. He cupped her face and kissed her. 

“Brienne,” he whispered as they continued kissing. He urged her away from him for a bit. His face was desperate and worried, his eyes watery. “No matter what, this is _our_ child.” He pressed his palm gently on her belly. At his touch, the baby started moving. “I love you. Both of you. Nothing will change that.”

“I know. But I still don’t want---Jaime, I don’t want to leave. When we walk out that door tomorrow, that’s it. There’s no turning back.” 

“Would it be so bad?” He asked. “If Oberyn is the biological father?”

“I want it to be you so much. I want this child to be yours in every way.”

“It is.”

They passed a tensed, sleepless night. Brienne tossed and turned in bed. Jaime kept moving too because he would get in the way. When the hands of the clock moved past midnight, each became frustrated being unable to sleep. Brienne made the first move by grabbing Jaime for a kiss. He snuck his hand under shirt to cup her heavy breasts, making her grunt and hiss. She was too tired to get up and straddle him but he was hard and thrusting against her thigh. His hand found her wet too. Their lips latched to each other, their hands groped for each other’s sex and stroked, caressed. Jaime groaned against her mouth as he spilled in her palm. She squeezed his cock some more to get the last drops of his semen until he let another groan of relief. His fingers pumping in her cunt had faltered during his release but now that he was relaxed, he redoubled his efforts. Her thick thighs were slick with sweat. Her come flowed thickly, flooding his palm and dripping to wrist. They fell asleep sticky and spooned against each other. 

They met Ned at the steps of the courthouse the next day. Blond, tall and wearing dark suits, they were striking and drew curious stares. In spite of the shadows under Jaime’s eyes, women walking past smiled at him seductively. Normally this would amuse Brienne; she glared at them. He kissed her hand and continued to hold it as Ned approached them.

“You both look like shit,” Ned declared.

“You could have told us what you know and we wouldn’t be,” Jaime retorted.

The entered the courtroom to find Arthur and Oberyn already there. Oberyn shot to his feet upon seeing Jaime. Jaime seemed to lunge forward to, ready to attack but Brienne yanked at his hand and shook her head. The last thing they needed was a fight right in the courtroom.

Brienne looked away as Oberyn glared at her. Jaime saw this, and frustrated that he could punch the guy, suddenly spun Brienne toward him and kissed her. It was a rough, bruising kiss, open-mouthed, greedy and possessive. Brienne knew she should push him away but his tongue felt so good against hers, his growing erection poking at her belly even better. Familiar, tingling flutters rose in her tummy and he felt them. His kiss gentled, suddenly slow, tasting, reverent as his hand easily settled on where the baby was kicking. 

A chair scraped loudly and rudely. Brienne whipped her head toward the direction, which put Jaime’s mouth against her throat. Arthur was hissing harshly at Oberyn, who staring at them in disgust. Arthur turned to Ned and shook his head at Jaime and Brienne.

“Control your clients, Stark.”

Jaime snorted. Brienne, red and a little embarrassed, put him down on his seat and gave him a warning look. While her eyes were bright, indicating she had clearly enjoyed their kiss, this was not the appropriate time to provoke Oberyn. There would be never an appropriate time. Then she walked around sit beside Ned. 

Judge Walder Frey shuffled in ten minutes later, leaning heavily on his cane. Everyone stood up until he told them to sit down. Once seated, he leered at Brienne’s breasts again. Jaime frowned but quickly schooled his expression into that of harmless placidity. 

“This hearing is to determine once and for all the paternity of the child of Brienne Tarth.” Judge Frey began. “The plaintiff, her husband Oberyn Martell, represented by Arthur Dayne, believes himself to be the father. Miss Tarth, thru her attorney Ned Stark, has volunteered to have the test conducted, along with the fathers in question, Oberyn Martell and Jaime Lannister.“ He looked at Ned. “Do you have the results?”

“We have, Your Honour. If I may approach?” Ned asked.

“Go on.”

Ned opened his briefcase and pulled out a letter envelope. He went to Walder Frey and gave it to him. The judge frowned and scowled at the contents of the report before handing it back to Ned.

“Read to the court the results of the non-invasive DNA paternity test,” he commanded Ned.

Ned glanced at Arthur before reading aloud the results. “Based on the DNA sample provided by the plaintiff, Oberyn Martell, referred to as the alleged father in this document, it is concluded that that he is excluded as the biological father of the child. This conclusion is based on the non-matching alleles observed at the loci listed. . .” 

As Ned continued reading, Brienne looked wildly at Jaime.

“. . .The alleged father lacks the genetic markers that must be contributed to the child by the biological father. The probability of paternity is zero percent.” Ned finished.  
Brienne let out a breath. Summoning what little courage she had, she risked a glance at Oberyn.

He looked very displeased.

Brienne put a hand protectively on her stomach as his stare hardened. 

“If I may read the next part of the report, Your Honour, for the court’s records?”

“You may.” 

“Jaime Lannister, the other alleged father, is not excluded as the biological father of the child. Based on the test results obtained from analyses of the DNA, the probability of paternity is 99.999999999998%. The father of Brienne Tarth’s child, therefore,” Ned concluded as he folded the report, “is Jaime Lannister.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At last. Now we know.
> 
> We have one more chapter and then I'm moving on to the next (and last) installment in the series. 
> 
> Thank you for reading. Please leave a comment!  
> Note: The lab report on the non-invasive DNA test is quoted near-verbatim from a sample report. Obviously I skipped a lot of technical parts and I THINK, when this is court-ordered, the doctor who performed the test would testify to confirm that the results are conclusive and sure. Again, I'm not a lawyer so I know I'm wrong. Don't snark on that, please. I never claimed to be an expert from the start. But non-invasive DNA paternity test is real.
> 
> So, you think it's all smooth sailing for Jaime and Brienne from now on, eh? Well . . .


	10. Begin Again

_Jaime Lannister was the father._

Ned Stark had long finished talking. Judge Frey’s guttural and impatient voice droned something unintelligible. Oberyn breathed rapidly, rubbing his temples. His head felt full. He could feel the bagel he had for breakfast lodged in his throat, like a rock. Then Arthur was talking. 

He heard people rising from their seats because chair legs scraped across the floor. Arthur put a hand on his shoulder and Oberyn jumped. Still chasing air, his lungs still tight, he stared dully at his lawyer, blinking quickly.

“Oberyn.” Arthur was speaking. “We should go.”

He nodded and rose on unsteady legs. His knuckles were white gripping the edge of the table. For the first time, since Judge Frey concluded the hearing, Arthur gave him a good look. “Are you alright?”

Then there was a flutter of movement out of the corner of his eye. Oberyn turned and that was when the earth seemed to have returned to its usual tilt. Everything was in focus again. His lungs eased, air filling them as Brienne’s beautiful blue eyes rested on him.

Her eyes have always been beautiful, he thought. They were kind and pure, guileless. Eyes that would never lie. 

How wrong he was.

 _How many times?_ He wanted to rage at her. _How many times did you look at me with those as if you haven't been fucking Lannister?_

Brienne was surrounded by Jaime and Ned. She was the tallest in the group yet looked strangely fragile. In her black pantsuit and navy blue top, she looked all business-like but there was no mistaking the vulnerability in her eyes. He knew her from when she was a terrified freshman in a crowded hallway, and had watched, enthralled, as she became a woman in his arms. There was an ease with the way she carried herself now but she was not clearly confident. She will never be. That he could still see her this way hurt. She was in his blood. 

Pregnancy looked good on her, even when it was another man’s child in her womb. Her pale, thin hair had acquired volume and a golden sheen. She was still heavily freckled but her skin, even from afar, looked supple and the luminosity was not due to the harsh light of the courtroom. Her figure had always been boyish until now, the hard planes and angles giving way to curves and shape. He longed to bare her breasts, to see them ripe and heavy with milk, longed to trail his lips and palm down her round, huge belly all the way to her cunt, now no doubt a riotous tangle of dark blond curls. He wanted to come home and find her with their baby suckling from her breast.  
Most of all, he wished for her to look at him as if he was still the centre of her world, rather than with suspicion and doubt as she was looking at him now. It was so long ago he wondered if he had dreamed it. 

Then she looked away to speak quietly to Ned and Jaime. Jaime glanced at Oberyn; there was warning and mistrust in his eyes. Ned was shaking his head vehemently. Then Jaime turned to the other man and began to talk. As he did, Oberyn noticed that he held Brienne’s hand. 

Gods, he wanted to scream. He should be the one at her side, holding her hand. He should be the father. He should be with her. 

They belonged together.

_You promised, Brienne._

There was no stopping his mind from unreeling to the first time they fucked. It was another lifetime because they were so young and she innocent. Oberyn panted against her mouth as he came, squeezing his eyes shut and loudly crying out at the wonder and pleasure of being inside her for the first time. When he opened his eyes, Brienne was looking up at him, tears sliding down her cheeks, her temples. She was red and sweaty, her mouth swollen and looking too big. His heart twisted at the bravery of this young girl, at the trust she put in him. He was still staggered at her admittance that she loved him.

“It hurts only for the first time,” he whispered against her mouth before kissing her. Her tongue was thick with saliva, from when she refused to make a single sound, only the softest whimpers, as his cock tore into her virginity. He tilted her head back as his tongue slid inside her mouth, tasting and seeking. It took several moments before she kissed him back, awkwardly, clumsily. 

“I’ll never hurt you, baby,” he whispered as he pulled away. His eyes were tender before he placed little loving kisses around her face. 

She let out a shaky breath and nodded.

“I love you.”

Another shaky breath and she said hoarsely, “I love you too.” She spoke as if still testing the words but the truth was in her eyes. 

“I’m yours, Brienne,” he swept a thumb across her forehead to brush away a lock of hair. “We belong together.”

She nodded again. 

“Brienne?” He prompted.

“I promise, Oberyn. I’m yours.” She touched him on the cheek. “You’re—You’re mine. We belong together.”

His nose picking up the familiar, delicate, natural scent of her skin brought him right back to the present. _She no longer wears perfume,_ he realized, anger flaring in his chest as she stood before him, looking wide-eyed and unsure. He didn’t realize Arthur was still there until the man spoke, demanding what she wanted. She fixed a cool, steady gaze on him.

“I wish to speak with him. If you could give us a moment.” 

Arthur looked dubious but Oberyn nodded. “Leave us.”

Brienne looked over Oberyn’s shoulder and he knew she was signaling to Jaime and Ned they could leave too. She kept her eyes there while Oberyn wistfully gazed at the curve of ear, her neck. He wanted her hand on his cheek. When she finally turned her eyes on him, his stare was detached.

But he was the first to speak.

“What do you want?”

“I-I came here to apologize,” she stammered, looking at her stomach briefly before giving him her eyes again. 

“To apologize?” He said sarcastically. “What, exactly? That you betrayed me, let me fuck you while still dripping with another man’s seed? That you stand before me proudly bearing the evidence of that betrayal? That I lost the only woman I’ve loved? The woman I gave everything to?”

The regret that had formed on her face as he listed her crimes suddenly fled. Flushing, she declared, “I didn’t want everything, Oberyn. Only you.”

“You’re not fooling me. Those eyes will never fool me again.”

She put those eyes away but staring down at herself.

“If you think an apology will fix anything, you’re wrong.”

This time, when she looked at him, her eyes were the colour of a stormy ocean.

“I came here to apologize for what I did. I hurt you. I never denied that. I-I took things you have a right to. That only you have a right to.” She put a hand on her belly and Oberyn wanted to weep, wishing with every fiber of his being to touch her and kiss her, sink into her. He wanted wake up to find that everything had been a bad dream. 

“I apologize. I am sorry, Oberyn, more than you could imagine. I don’t expect you to forgive me.” Brienne whispered the last sentence, startling him. When he could only stare at her, stunned, she went on. “I have no right to ask but. . .but I would like to hope that there is still some good in you, of the boy who rescued me and I fell in love with. Please let me go.”

Oberyn saw her shoulders slump.

“Let me go, Oberyn," she begged.

Her eyes had softened but there was the wobble in her chin again—the very wobbling that hooked him, heart and soul, in that dorm hallway. She was looking at him hopefully, wringing her hands. 

He stepped closer.

She didn’t move away.

Oberyn pulled her head down and stood on tiptoes to kiss her.

Brienne gasped, stiffening as soon as his lips brushed hers. He could tell she wasn’t breathing as his hands caressed her strong shoulders, moving closer until her round belly was nudging at him. With every swipe of his lips and tongue, he begged her to kiss him back, to take him back. It was when his hands lowered to her belly when she suddenly moved, turning away from him. Frustrated, he buried his nose against her shoulder, and wondered why he thought she would smell better with perfume. Her natural scent was making him weak and want her so much. Stubbornly, he kept his hand on her belly.

“You shouldn’t,” she said, and seemed to debate within herself whether to touch him to remove him from her person and let him do it himself. “Stop, please.”

She sounded hurt and. . .afraid. That sobered him up. Oberyn snatched his hands back and stepped away from her, putting at least a foot between them. Brienne let out a sigh and looked at him. 

Disappointment and sadness clouded her eyes.

He couldn’t live with himself knowing his actions was responsible for that. 

But he had to know. It was the equivalent of throwing himself down a blade but he had to know.

“If not for Lannister. If not for the child,’ he said, “Would you still leave?”

Her answer completely threw him.

“Yes.”

“Why?” The word was wrenched from his throat.

“Oberyn,” she was pleading. “Please don’t do this.”

“No. Why?” He demanded, refusing to back down. When she shook her head, he glared at her. “What’s a little more pain, baby? Come on. You’ve been doing it for a while. What’s stopping you now?”

“I don’t want to get in this kind of discussion.” Brienne said firmly. “I don’t want you any more hurt—“

“Fuck you. _Fuck you, Brienne._ I don’t need your pity, you whore.”

Brienne flinched.

“Tell me.” He growled. “Tell me why, you ungrateful whore.”

“Because I always had to beg you to be with me. You’re never there when I needed you. You—You—You couldn’t love me as I am. You loved me once. But you’re the one who left this marriage first. I told you. I didn’t want everything. I was happy and content with you. You weren’t. I was just somebody there to make life easy for you. I was only good for when you wanted a promotion or impress clients. I was just somebody you fucked.” Brienne stared at him defiantly. “There’s your answer, Oberyn. I don’t want to hurt you anymore but I don’t believe you love me. You think you do, but you don’t. You’ve lost but you haven’t had me for a long time. Before Jaime and everything else, I was no longer yours.”

They stared at each other wordlessly. Brienne was a little out of breath. The anger that fueled Oberyn in the last few minutes dissipated. Her words came back to him. _I would like to hope that there is still some good in you, of the boy who rescued me and I fell in love with._

“I don’t have the papers with me,” he said. “I’ll sign them when I get home and send them to Ned right away.”

This time, Brienne only nodded. Oberyn realized it wasn’t that she had run out of things to say to him. She had nothing to say to him anymore. 

She turned on her heel and he watched her walk out of his life. 

 

Brienne leaned against the heavy doors of the courtroom as soon as she was out. The confrontation with Oberyn had worn her out like a physical fight but it was done. She had said all that must be said, what he had to know. Now everything was in his hands. She wanted to believe he would do as he promised. 

Pushing herself away from the door, she scanned the hallway until a familiar crop of golden blond hair crossed her vision. Jaime was sitting on one of the benches, his elbows resting on his knees. He looked up as he sensed her approach. 

He stood up and met her halfway. Brienne quickened her pace until she was in his arms. For a few moments, they stood in the middle of the hallway, just holding and rocking against each other. She wanted nothing else but to be surrounded by his scent, of books and vinyl records, maple syrup and coffee, soap. Then she turned her head toward him and pressed her lips against his. Jaime groaned and easily coaxed her lips to part, deepening their kiss. Nothing could come close to how good his hard, solid body felt against her right this very moment.

“Are you alright?” He asked during a pause in their kiss. He leaned his forehead against hers.

She nodded. “Jaime?”

“Yes?”

Her eyes misted, her voice trembled as she whispered, “I love you.” She bit her lip and cupped his face. “I love you so much.” 

His smile reached right into her heart as he cupped her cheek. “I know, wench.”

A soft laugh bubbled out of her. It was a miracle, to be able to laugh. Maybe there would be more of it now. Her eyes half-closed, she nibbled on his lips again. “Everything will be alright now.” She could believe that again. She hoped to believe in more things like this from now on. As they kissed some more, their little one started turning and kicking in her stomach again. 

“Let’s go,” He said. His hand landed on her belly. “Someone’s hungry.”

“Let’s not go home yet,” she suggested. “I want us to eat in a restaurant. Then go for a walk after and then eat again. I want us to be out and not go home until my feet hurt and I’m cursing so you have to carry me.”

Jaime looked surprised but happy. Brienne resolved that from now on, he would look like that more often. Both of them would.

“Your faith in my strength is encouraging, wench. And we be both know I like challenges,” he teased her. 

She pinched him. "Call me Brienne, damn it."

He grinned. "Sure, Brienne. My wench." 

"You're hopeless." 

This time, he kissed her then took her hand. She saw him lightly caress her sapphire ring with his thumb before gently pulling her after him. They smiled at each other and together, walked out of the courthouse.

Into the light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 10 will be up shortly. Thank you for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> Recap:  
> 1\. Oberyn's smug ass is in jail.  
> 2\. Tywin finds out Cersei abused Jaime and had an affair with Gerion.  
> 3\. Cersei was also doing Petyr Baelish.  
> 4\. Jaime And Brienne are pregnant but Tyrion is the only other person who knows.  
> 5\. In this modern AU, Tywin is father only to Jaime and Tyrion. Cersei is Jaime's aunt. Her twin brother is Gerion.


End file.
